I'm standing outside the Star Bar on George St waiting to meet Jo Kemp (if this blog were a sitcom then she'd be known as a former regular character on this blog). We meet around this time every year to make predictions about the year ahead and read the ones we made last year. I'm pretty excited as I have no memory of what we wrote. If we predicted that I'd become a woman then that predictions will be 80% wrong. I'll let you know how it goes. (Unless of course I get blown up by the unattended luggage that has been by the bin this last ten minutes. I'll let you know how that goes too.)