2012: The Year I Blog More, Worship at the Dance Altar of Tom Jones
Happy New Year everyone! Yes, I know it’s technically almost February and most of you are well past the new year excitement and more in to dreaming of hibernation until spring shines its glorious light back into our lives. You’ve probably given up on any new year resolutions, like me every year when I realize a diet that excludes chocolate is like a life that excludes joy or air. But since this is my first post of 2012, I wanted to wish you a happy new year all the same and goshdarnit you will accept it with a feigned smile that says “I’d prefer you don’t even bother talking to me until St. Patrick’s Day, but fine, thanks, happy end of January to you too.”
So why’s it taken me until January 26 to blog again? Well, I went home for two weeks over Christmas/New Year to spend time with my parents, my brother, and my brand new sister-in-law. While there, my mother gave me influenza (thanks Mum! All I wanted was a new scarf or whatever), which, when I returned to L.A., left me with little energy for anything more than work, sleep, and going to the movies (Note: I’ve seen a LOT of movies recently and is it just me or is Jude Law in every single one of them?!) Anyway, the time off from blogging has given me lots to think about writing about and I’m excited to get back into it. I’ve been to British pubs in L.A. since last I wrote, traipsed around London on soggy January days, and absorbed a ton of Anglo-American pop culture, and I’ve got lots to tell you about!
First things first though, I don’t think I ever followed up on my list of the Do’s and Don’ts of preparing for a sibling’s wedding. The wedding took place in Bowling Green, KY, and it was lovely to realize that my little brother – who will always look like this to me:
The photo that will haunt him for the rest of his life.
- is actually now a Proper Grown Up with a wife! And responsibilities! (I haven’t really lived in the same house with him full time since I left for college at 18, so I have a hard time imagining my little video game-obsessed, history buff, washing dishes-averted brother with responsibilities…) Here we are, looking nothing alike as ever, on his big day:
Are we QUITE sure we're related?!
And here is the happy couple just minutes after the ceremony:
They are so blonde and cute! And I love them.
So, my little brother did indeed get married and we all survived, albeit exhausted. Our usually stoic mother even shed a tear or two! (And we were surprised that our more emotional Dad cried less than we expected…)
That was October; by Christmas we were all glad to have some time off to chill in my parents’ wee village in the Buckinghamshire countryside. Check out the quaintness of this place:
OK, so it's the 2000's, which means I don't know any of the people who live in any of these houses, but it's still a beautiful fantasy of quiet village life.
I’ll write a separate post about the adventures I had in London when my man friend flew over to join us for the New Year holiday, where he totally dug the history whilst feeling personally threatened into drinking tea at every opportunity by my mother. (Sample dialogue from his trip: “I can’t wait to put on my American tourist act and say ‘We do this bigger and better in America’ to everything.”)
I returned to Los Angeles on January 9 with the flu, got immediately back into it at work, and never truly made any new year resolutions beyond the vague “be healthier, save money, try not to kill my goldfish.” Until today, friends. I believe that today I have found a dance “workout” with the ultimate motivating tool: you get to dance for/with Tom Jones! I plan on perfecting this routine, day in, day out, and then stalking The Voice with it until we become best friends united by our love of Wales.
Without further ado, I present to you The Best Dance Routine Ever Invented, and the only new year resolution that matters:
Quick question: Does anyone know where I can find Tom Jones in order to stalk him? I’m very lazy and would prefer not to have to put any effort into this project.
PS. Read this article about that dirty F-word (that’s feminism, my dears) by my dear friend and inspiring blogger of all things political, Louise.
