Shall we just pretend 2010 never happened? The twenty-tenties could have got off to a better start really couldn't they? I'm quite pleased that I staggered through 2010 in my baby induced blur because when I think of all that happened, I would rather, well, not.
You don't agree? Well the obvious place to start is that the country was subjected to Wagner on the X Factor for eight whole weeks. But also, what about the fact that we managed, rather spectacularly, to not elect a government? We always knew that whoever came into power was going to have some tough things to deal with, but now we've got the 'Lib-Con' coalition who, by the very nature of their half-arsed conception, will have to muddle through by breaking (potentially all, according to Vince Cable) their promises – thereby upsetting the very people who managed to – oh! – not vote them in. What a mess.
One of those broken promises, the one about tuition fees, at least led to some good news footage. As a friend put it, it was quite nice in a way to finally see people taking to the streets and smashing things up a bit. Not that I condone either students or policemen throwing things at each other's heads, but we haven't had any serious protests since 2009 and perhaps it's only now that we're really beginning, at a country-wide level, to experience the serious consequences of What The Banks Did. The banks who still paid out £7bn in bonuses in 2010, according to the Centre for Economics and Business Research.
Talking of billions of pounds being spent where they shouldn't be, over on Planet Dubai, 2010 saw the official opening of the world's tallest (read most ridiculous) building. I saw the Burj Dubai about two thirds of the way into its construction and even then I couldn't quite believe my eyes (not in a good way). It took five years to build, at a cost of £2bn. Even as Dubai's property market collapsed, house prices plummeted by 50% and disillusioned expats came skulking home before paying their credit card bills, construction pushed on. And now the world is the proud owner of a near 1km high, phallic symbol of mankind's stupidity. If you don't believe me when I say how preposterous it is, Google image it.
What else? Oh yes, the world's most eligible man was trapped.
I was in Mrs Ford's class at primary school when Prince William was born, and I distinctly remember thinking at the time that I might marry him. It felt especially significant that we had been born in the same month, albeit seven years apart. Well, that dream's over. I suppose it was inevitable that he would marry Kate, but cynical me likes to think that grandma may have pushed for it, suggesting a royal wedding would be just the thing at this time of discontent. Not exactly a long engagement is it?
The grief for the Princess Pip who might have been would be easier to get over if we'd won the bid for the World Cup. A few weeks ago, I wrote a debate article for MyDaily saying that, if the worst happened and we lost the bid, we should take it with a stiff upper lip and not get all sulky and finger pointy. Then I found out Fifa had awarded us two measly votes. Two! And one of those obviously came from England's exec committee member Geoff Thompson. So am I sulking? Yes.
Add to that the fact that this year saw me officially get closer to 40 than I am to 30 (and possibly because of that have started saying things like: "Seriously, who IS Justin Bieber?!") and I am left with no option than to take the la la la approach to 2010. I'll live in hope that 2011 brings better things. But I swear to god, if anyone gives Wagner a record deal I am leaving the country (N.B. Will not be going to Dubai).
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