Tag Archives: mulled wine

It’s Not Called “Boiled Wine”

 

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Season’s greetings, lovely reader!  How’s the wrapping going?

I won’t beat around the bush, because we’re all busy people and those mince pies aren’t going to eat themselves: 2016 has been weird.

Setting aside the national, global and celebrity death issues, it seems to me that a lot of us have been going through our own personal annus horribilis (which is Latin for “what the HELL happened this year?!”).

In my case it’s been a year of boiling points, especially with my friends.  Issues and unspoken gripes that had been simmering for a long time began to bubble up and spill, and at certain points I found myself not speaking to people who have been very close friends of mine for years and years.

In one instance – and I don’t think she’ll mind me telling you this story, because we’re grand now – I fell out with one of my best friends for about three months.  I was in the wrong for causing the argument, but her decision to temporarily cut me out of her life seemed disproportionate to me: it wasn’t that big of a row.  When we met up a few weeks ago to sort things out, it transpired that she had actually been upset with me for various reasons.  Thoughtless actions or badly-chosen words on my part had been upsetting her for a while, and she’d never said anything about them.  So what I thought was an over-reaction turned out to be totally justified: she was boiling over after months of unspoken annoyance.

Now, obviously, this makes me feel like an absolutely rubbish friend and I am not proud of this story at all.  I cannot bear to think that I was merrily running around thinking everything was ok when in fact one of my closest friends was feeling hurt by my actions.  I did the same thing myself with another friend: her behaviour upset me for a long time, but I plodded on with the usual useless thoughts of “that’s just what she’s like” and “well, what can you do?”, the way we all do when we love someone who occasionally irritates us.  That situation blew up in my face, too.  I thought I was being patient when all I was doing was giving myself permission to approach boiling point.

What I have tried to take away from these nasty situations is that it is important to be honest when someone close to you is hurting your feelings.  This is really not an easy thing to do.  We’ve all been in situations where it is difficult to be honest with someone, either because of circumstances or because we’re not sure how they’ll take it.  You know the sort of thing:

“Hey, listen, about your new boyfriend…”
“Oh my God, he’s great, right?  So smart, and SO funny.  What was that joke he made the other day?  Something about your hair?  How bad it looked?  Oh my God, that was HILARIOUS.”
“Er…yeah…”

No fun to be had there.  But the thing about letting things simmer for too long is that they always boil over: that’s physics.  And I don’t know about you, but I’m damned if I’m going to have another year of emotional eruptions and friendship disruptions.  Let us mull the wine of friendship, not allow it to boil over into a claggy claret mess.

Merry Christmas to you, lovely reader.  I’ll see you in 2017.

The Lie In, the Witch and the Wardrobe

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Hello there, dear reader!  How are you doing?  I’ve just made some biscuits, do you want one?  Careful, they’re still pretty hot.

Winter can be a magical time filled with joy, love and yummy food.  It can also be an absolute pain, complete with freakish weather situations, the stress of Christmas shopping and the inevitable do-we-don’t-we of turning on the central heating.  Here are some of the most common occurrences in the lives of twenty-somethings during the winter of our discontent (or disorganisation, in all likelihood):

  • The ‘where are we meeting?’ argument:
    “I don’t mind hosting.”
    “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to go outside.”
    “Well…yeah.  And I’ve got mulled wine here.”
    “Well played, my friend.  Well played”
  • The lie in:
    “I am NOT GETTING OUT OF BED until this house stops feeling like a BLOODY IGLOO.”
    “You’ve got work in forty minutes.”
    “Shh.  Inuits don’t have to get the Northern Line.”
  • The witch:
    “I’m not coming out tonight.”
    “Why not?”
    “Urgh.  I feel disgusting.  I’m so snotty.  My voice sounds all croaky and evil.”
    “You’ve got a cold.”
    “No, I’m dying.”
    “It’s just a cold.”
    “Were you not listening?  I feel like DEATH.  I’m not even sure that I’m HUMAN anymore.”
    “Yeah, you’re the whinging witch of the east.  Drink some Lemsip.”
  • The wardrobe:
    “It is SO COLD outside.  Should I wear tights or leggings?”
    “Tights UNDER leggings.”
    “You’re a genius.”
  • The transport issue:
    “Why did I wear tights under leggings?!  It’s hotter than Mount Doom on this bus!”
  • The prodigal glove:
    “I had two gloves last year.  I had two matching gloves.  A pair of gloves, in fact.   They live in that drawer.  Neither of them has had any reason to leave the drawer since February.  As far as I know, those gloves have been the best of friends for the past ten months.  One of them is here, in the drawer.  So where the HELL is the other one?  Did they have a row or something?!”
  • The festive season:
    “Have you started your Christmas shopping yet?”
    “Nope.”
    “Me neither.”
    “Amazon?”
    “Amazon.”
  • The festive reason:
    “We’ve only been going out for two weeks, but we were seeing each other for nearly three months before that, and technically we met over the Easter weekend, so should I buy him a Christmas present or not?”
    “I have no idea, but please throw your calendar away.  It’s creepy.”
  • The festive treason:
    “Have you started your Christmas shopping yet?”
    “Yep.  Everything’s bought, wrapped and safely hidden.”
    “I hate you.”

Have a lovely day.  Take a couple more biscuits for the road if you like.