So there was the new job, with the learning and the questions and the confusion and the money.

And this kept me very busy.

Then there was Christmas, with my mother and brother and their hugs and the look in their eyes that told me they missed me and that I was a terrible, terrible daughter/sister for not making more of an effort.

And I caught a train home on Christmas Day, and it was extremely full of bums and backpackers.

There was New Year's Eve, with Too Much Booze, and an evening of Playstation II Singstar goodness, and a morning after of throwing up repeatedly, in the style of a 16-year old who's just experimented with three casks of goon.

And the next day we listened to the last song we'd sung, at two o'clock the previous morning, and it went something like this:

"Cos we are li-ving in a mateeeeeeeeerial world, and I am a material girrrrrrrl. Oh-oh-oh-oh! I'm fifty and HOT! I'm married to Guy Ritchie! Oh! Material girrrrrrllll."

And we laughed.

There were drunken nights out, and dancing, and drunken men trying their luck, and hangovers, and vows to never drink again that were conveniently forgotten when the headaches went away.

But things started quietening down, and my life has a routine, and except for the whole moving house thing happening next month I think things are pretty well normal.

So I'm blogging.

Consider yourself caught up.