Thank God for Saint Nick

I recently undertook a test on alcohol awareness for "college" students for my sorority initiation.

I was mortified when I was asked to fill in the amount of units of beverage I consume in the space a three weeks fearing I would be thrown out due to my disgusting binge drinking... but I was more mortified to find out I had only consumed three units of alcohol in three weeks.

Where has my social life evaporated to?

Never fear, good old Saint Nick season has arrived and I'm more than happy to say I will be returning to the land of tea and crumpets for ten days over Christmas.

I have written a list of things I would like to achieve in this space of time:

1. Eat so much food I gain 10lbs (I can hear the Californian girls gasping in horror)
2. Drink so much I feel ill
3. Dance so much my feet bleed
4. Stay out so late I witness the sun rise
5. Have the messiest, most English filled night of horror that my face is plastered all over Facebook much to everyone's embarrassment but my own

All these things will come with added Christmas cheer and many, many, mince pies...

I was speaking with one of my English friends today who said something that really made me think. She said in America she feel like a lesser version of herself. - And I'm not agreeing this is true as I think she's fabulous, but I feel like California has sucked the life out of me too.

I spend a vast amount of time watching what I say for fear of dirty looks and offending people. And when I do say something that would be considered "banter" in England, I find myself apologizing for being so obnoxious.

Now it may be a bit too early for New Years resolutions, and we may all be too serious and sober for my selfish sentimentality - But in this next year I vow to not pipe down, not apologize for being myself, and will embrace any and all dirty looks that come my way.

Disgustingly I found myself wishing to apologize in advance for what is to come.

On this note and due to the end of finals and "welcome back social life" celebrations, I am going to embrace my "21" years of age and march my English arse to the bar to consume a binge drinking amount of French Martinis.