The Lockdown Blog: NYE edition

In many ways, facing a blank page could be compared to facing into a new year. It's full of possibility but also full of unknowns. Anything could happen. What the hell am I going to type next? What in fresh hell will 2022 bring down the tracks?

But here we are, nearly a paragraph written and all I've done is make a stretched analogy between writing and new years....the point is, it's done. The blank page is no longer and we're edging further toward the starting blocks of the cool, powdered peaks of unknown territory.

I wanted to write a blog to mark this occasion as, well, it feels like a big one. It's that time of year where having eyes on both sides of your head is entirely possible or, at least, attempted: one set looks back nostalgically whilst the other maintains a keen, hopeful stare onto the road ahead.

My own look back brings me to the blessed birth of this very 'lockdown blog' on the first of January 2021. A month of lockdown, a month of isolation and a month of daily entries for a twenty something year olds' sanity and amusement. Some might say, not much has changed: Still in lockdown? Check. Still a twenty something year old? Check. Still in need of sanity and amusement? Check.

By all accounts, you could say we've all been living in separate snow globes (without the snow--I'm depending on you 22') for the past year but what's a snow globe without a bit of a shake up? Covid, you've done your damnedest but nothing ever stands still.

Shake #1: The arrival of a flatmate and the keeping of same flatmate into 22'. For the astute readers you will know that this arrival spawned the beginning of 'The cohabitation blog' and many other new beginnings besides that bleed happily into the new year. 'Flatmate' can also read as friend, colleague, creative partner, chief chef, partner in crime, fellow-classic- Capricorn and girl boss...

Shake #2: An 'adult' job in the arts. This can also read as 'Theatre does have career prospects and this twenty something year old can Programme Coordinate her way out of many a sticky situation.' It also, alas, meant the end of minding child A and B who unwittingly provided much mileage for this blog...one door closes, another opens.

Shake #3: Cheating on blogs with spoken word. This can read as, 'I'm a poet and didn't know it'/ 'finding the right words is easier when you limit yourself to ones that rhyme'. I wrote three poems over 2021 which certainly isn't going to send chills down Heaney's spine but three is more than zero and zero is what I began the year with. One of these poems was whipped into shape by aforementioned flatmate and features in her short documentary Bog Standard--if you haven't seen this yet, the only appropriate response is 'why not' (for peat sake)?

Shake #4: I started something...That something is 'Reclaim Our Spaces', a volunteer led activist group campaigning for

a) an end to dereliction and vacancy and

b) the creation of public space that responds to the needs of its community

There's nothing like living in lockdown, being told you can't socialise or meet your friends indoors whilst at the same time being faced with a severe lack of outdoor, public amenities to cater for this change of 'normal'. Go figure.

This new years eve I'll be doing a lot of shaking, mainly of cocktails and my body in questionable, outrageous, uplifting dance moves but I'll be sure as hell to shake 2021's hand before shutting the door firmly behind it--ensuring there's a slight gap left, for ventilation purposes and for those good things that shouldn't get left behind.

Speaking of manners, the Christmas table often delivers delightful portions of well delivered and politely folded quotes of such perfumed delicacies that I fear they should evaporate lest they are put to good use and forever savored in a blog, so here goes:

'Everyone was very fond of him, but I wasn't fond of him at all, I thought he was a perfectly odious man'

The above was spoken without an ounce of precociousness, but as a simple, unselfconscious statement. It is unnecessary to know who the poor man being referred to is, but I invite you to substitute in whoever/whatever takes your fancy and enjoy the taste of this line as it leaves your mouth flagrantly and unapologetically. Perhaps this 'man' will be 2021 and well ain't you lucky because, hadn't you heard? It's New Year's Eve babyyyyyy....

And now, as the booster vaccine creates a pleasantly numbing and lethargic sensation up my left arm it prompts both an end to this blog post and an irresistible feeling of hope; 'Third time's the charm' is not entirely baseless--can be used interchangeably for both vaccine protection and chocolate consumption.

2022, I shall be hooking you to my veins or, at least, seeing you in merrily surrounded by good friends and family, which I believe, is entirely the same thing. You, my darling, will be great. I have already decided.

xoxo

Rebel with a cause