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Oh dear. I’m last aren’t I? I’m always last. All footage of my school sports days looks like it was shot through a particularly vicious earthquake - my parents found my efforts so hilarious (my Dad still maintains I ran arse-first, though I’m not entirely sure that’s possible).

I’m always last, and I’m always late. I’ve actually had to start lying to myself about what time I need to be places in order to get there on time, all because I can’t get up. Or I get distracted. I once missed a train entering a competition to win a years supply of something I don’t even like. So there you go. Always late and, arse-first or otherwise, always last.

You’d hope given all this extra time I’d have something wonderful to say, some incredible new music to impart. Give up your hope now please. And leave it at the door with your shoes because Mam’s just cleaned the carpets for Christmas.

So, I  think a catch up is probably in order. How are you? Is everything well? I see you’ve changed your hair, it’s charming! As for me, well… I think bullet-points are the fairest for all… 

• I finally went to a festival! 22 and i’d never been to a music festival before! (Well, not a proper raucous one any how).

Leeds was everything i’d hoped it would be. Open fires, face paint, 3-man catapults and having your lady-parts grabbed whilst crowd surfing. Worth every penny. Though the highlight of the weekend was undoubtedly, ‘Radiohead’.

Crikey on a bouncy castle. I stood for 7 hours waiting for them in an attempt to get right at the front. Though my kidneys almost burst, I did achieve at-the-very-front-ed-ness and did a tiny dance of joy (which didn’t help my wailing kidneys).

I made friends with two 16 year old boys to whom I promised that seeing ‘Radiohead’ would change their lives. They viewed me with great suspicion. Just suspicion, as I was wearing an enormous furry hat, had my face painted blue and had audible kidneys.

As little Thom Yorke and his delicious wonky eye glided onto stage I lost the plot, grabbed them both and cried like a baby. (In retrospect this could have been the wee-based pressure on my failing kidneys just finding a safe route out).

The experience was almost religious. They were better than I could ever have possibly imagined (and I have a generous and vivid imagination).

As it drew to a close, I turned to my new companions and both were crying. And not because I’d finally lost control and pissed on them either. It really had changed their lives. In a tiny way, yes probably, but it was really quite wonderful to see two 16 year old boys moved to tears by the power of music. Or Thom Yorke’s wonky eye.

• I got a new job. Yes, it finally came time to wave Milkshake-land goodbye and get a proper job.

So now I’m using my hand-talking skills as a Communication Support Worker working with deaf students at a local college. It’s odd now that I’m viewed as a grown up, and every time someone calls me ‘Miss’ I get embarrassingly excited.

Oh, and one of my students has a stutter. She’s deaf, uses sign language to communicate and yet stutters. With her hands. No, really. 

• I had a 23rd birthday. I am actually firmly in my twenties now and staring to feel horrendously old.

In an effort to counteract this, I went to a petting zoo with my parents to celebrate. And got bitten by a piglet. And cried like a baby. Who’s 23? Not this guy, thats for sure… (I also got balloons and went on a bouncy castle. It really was the perfect kids party). 

So thats it really. For now at least. But I fear my personal floodgate is open. I’m sorry if I get any on you. See you soon xxx