How to make me happy

Hello!

It’s been a while, mostly because I’m mega busy at the moment, but also because I’ve been pouring my heart and happiness into wearing my blanket-pants. You can have your onesies, world, there’s no beating leopard print jammies made out of the softest material known to man.

This is the happiest a piece of clothing has ever made me, which got me thinking about what else makes me happy. Here’s my list! What’s on yours?

I know books make basically everyone happy, but I’m no exception so they’re going on the list. I love Bill Bryson so much,I’d invest my life savings in paying him to just sit and talk at me for the rest of my life. Money well spent, as far as I’m concerned. I’m also game for being best friends with Caitlin Moran, if she’s okay with me gradually turning into her. And Simon Armitage if he’s cool with me fangirling all over the show.

My new year’s resolution was to have some more quality time with Emma, and we have been delivering. It might take her forty five minutes to leave the house to pick up a bottle of milk, but I can accept that, as long as she can accept me retelling the same anecdote for the fifth time and ending every sentence with #bestfriendever.(…#bestfriendever)

Yes, as a weedy girl at university, you might not expect me to be particularly enthusiastic about watching men in baseball caps shout at each other in rhymes. But I so am. I’ve got a particular soft spot for Blizzard, who has insane rhythm and seriously smart lyrics. Watch him destroy Don’t Flop veteran Lego in round three (skip to 10.50 if you don’t want to watch the whole thing)- and if you don’t understand why this is amazing, just try it out yourself. 

There should a compulsory Beyonce night at at least one club every night, in every city. They could do it on rotation, I’m not being unreasonable. All I want is a night out where I don’t have to listen to wil.i.am bullshit and can just have a night where I know all the words/dance routines and spend the night queening IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK? Sigh. 

I have a lot of time for food. Nothing pleases me more than going out for a meal, least of all because I get an opportunity to compare the service to my own waitressing skills. I had a bit of a fling with baking not long back, and today I’m making a Sunday roast for my four nearest and dearest, because I’m a damn good friend (and a well meaning chef).

Other things that guarantee a good mood, but require less of a blurb: getting a table seat to yourself on a train, reading strangers’ blogs, poached eggs, driving around with my mum, umbrellas that don’t instantly fuck up, playing with my new fancy camera that I don’t understand yet, and trying to use phrases that don’t suit me, like “dat shit cray”. I’m pretty ease to please, really.