Sadly, any best-selling novel must eventually reach its denouement, and mundane stories of the everyday life of young professional women who are desperate to get married are no exception, I'm afraid. And so we reach the final chapter of Real-Life Chicklit.
Readers who have been with me since the beginning (I can hear the violins now, can't you?) will recall that I called my blog Real-Life Chicklit because, as a 29-year-old, professional, London-dwelling, dieting, Marlboro Light-smoking, white wine-drinking woman with a boyfriend who refuses to propose to me, a full-time job, a cat and a best friend with a disastrous lovelife I was a living, breathing example of the chicklit stereotype and wanted to tell my story to show what it's like for us in the real world.
However I have now left my job and am embarking on a freelance, downshifted life that will involve moving out of London and (the violins swell to a dramatic clash of cymbals!) stopping smoking tobacco. So I'm not so chicklit any more and sadly, this means the end of RLC.
I could leave you with a discussion of the etymology of the phrase "swan song". But I won't.
So, in homage to the doyenne of the genre, Her Majesty Queen Helen Fielding, let me leave you with a few "since January 2004" statistics:
Weight lost: 19 lbs
Fags smoked: at least a gazillion
Calories consumed: 448,000
Weddings attended: 2
Number of those that were mine: 0
God-daughters obtained: 1
New friends made: 1
Units of alcohol drunk up until my work leaving do on Friday: 72 (been on a diet)
Units of alcohol drunk including my work leaving do on Friday: 4,798ish.

Tune in, though, for the sequel (provisionally entitled "The Provincial Princess"), starting sometime soon. It's going to be one of those "My adventures in the countryside, for all you poor bastards who still live in London" things like they have in the Sunday papers, but hopefully more interesting, less smug and with a lot less of the "oh dear the charming local shop where the lady behind the counter actually talks to you doesn't have enough beeswax to french polish the antique floorboards of the 15-bedroom thatched cottage that Tarquin and I bought with the £400,000 profit we made when we sold our flat in Stoke Newington" coz I hate that shit and always turn to the gardening section and also coz I don't have a flat in London to sell. It'll be chickens, wellies and more of the moaning about stuff that you've come to know and love.

xx



- posted by Fizzwhizz @ 11:15 AM