Happy almost-end of February, my loves. You know what this means, don’t you? It means we are on the precipice of Spring and it’s nearly time to stop worrying about what I can do to stop my nipples from protruding in literally every garment I put on and subsequently almost stabbing my colleagues in the eyes.
February has been so stupid. January was long and lame, but February is fucking stupid. And I hate her. And I want her to be gone for at least 11 more months, minimum. Bye bye, bitch. I’ve been crazy busy, super stressed and struggling with almost everything. And it’s been literal hell. That combined with my complete inability to relax has made for a really, really charming version of me. Lol.
In 18 teeny tiny days, my book will be published and available for public consumption in its entirety. I’ll be celebrating the launch in London, so just holla if you wanna come and share a giggle and a free glass of vino. Organising this (with complete guidance and under the impeccable leadership of my step mum and her team) has been hectic. There is actually loads of frigging admin that goes into publishing and launching a book, as it turns out. As if condensing your feelings and stories into 70-odd-thousand words wasn’t enough. That being said, I am going home this evening to try on the outfit I’ve bought as a potential for the 9th, and I am actually really, really fucking excited. Don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely shitting myself as well, but excited nonetheless.
In light of this and everything else that I am juggling, my merch store has taken a bit of a back seat. Of course, I am still printing and shipping out orders as and when, but the marketing and admin side of things has suffered with my focus shift. As soon as this book is out on its own in the big wide world, I vow to get back into it properly. I have loads of gorgeous new colours, designs and merch to show off and I really can’t wait.
Above everything else, and as a sudden and unexpected heap of stress and emotion, I lost my lovely Grandad this weekend just gone. He was the most kind, gentle and wonderful man and was truly loved by all who knew him. It has been (and still is) very hard to come to terms with as we are completely devastated, and miss him so, so much.
Right, I’ve got to finish this with something more chipper. One of my best friends is teetering on the very brink of having her baby, and I am bursting with excitement to meet my new ‘nephew’. We are of no relation whatsoever, but I actively insist all of my friends babies call me Aunty Nelly in the hope that as they grow up I can fulfil my lifelong ‘cool aunt’ dream, sneaking them sips of champagne when they are underage and always showing up to parties with too much cleavage on show. When this latest little one decides to make his grand entrance, I’ll have two. Two ‘nephews’ that is. And as I write this, I am counting down the minutes until I can go and see my first. That’s the most wonderful thing about your closest friends procreating, isn’t it? You get all the perks of motherhood – the cuddles and kisses, helping out at bath time and longing to see them, and then you get to hand them back to their parents when it all goes Pete Tong and there is pooing and/or crying.
I plan on spending the majority of this weekend in my PJs, rigorously introducing new skincare routines and eating pasta bake while I dream of being Moira Rose (if you haven’t yet watched Schitt’s Creek, this is your calling to do so).
Speak soon, babes.