Staying In's the New Going Out...

I've reached that point in the year. You know the one. Twentyish days in, and the post-Christmas health kick is fading. My excitement at some quality hibernation has been satiated. I'm ready for a night out! 

The pandemic and its restrictions may not be on my side, but I can't kid myself. This wasn't an easy feat in previous years either. In Normal January, everyone, including myself, is skint. Some are on far more elaborate health kicks than my own 'eat less crap' diet. And then there are those that embrace Dry January's abstinence. Even when I'd hit this point in previous years, the lack of other people up for some fun meant I didn't necessarily get to scratch that itch. My desire for a big night out would remain a tickle-y problem until closer to my March birthday, when I had a bit more control over others.

I heart all Kristen and
Aubrey's wardrobe in this film.

Obviously, OBVIOUSLY, it's worse this year. There'll be no birthday night out in 2021 either. My lovely new Christmas-present going-out boots will stay in their box for months. My plan to eat in a nice restaurant and channel Kristen Stewart from Happiest Season remains a dream I have yet to realise. Staying in and staying well are the priorities. But all is not lost. Social events can still take place. They just mean socialising with members of your household, or with your friends from the TV. It just takes a re-think. 

Me and Wolf have spent some quality
time together over the past months.

When I opened my new diary three weeks ago, there was just one social event to write this month. January 20th 2021 - the Biden-Harris Inauguration. I planned to keep the whole day free. I would watch the handover of power from the start of the coverage, through the ceremony itself, and end with the celebrations that evening. I'd catch up with my new CNN pals from Election Night. (Hi Wolf! Hi Abby! Hi John! Hi Jake! Hi Dana! Hi Kaitlan!) It was going to be a brilliant day of celebration.

 
That all changed on January 6th, of course. Watching the historic vote count in Georgia morph into horror at the rampage at the Capitol, was terrifying. The fear of what would happen over the coming days, and indeed on Inauguration Day itself, was real. It no longer felt like a fun day to enjoy. It was going to be a stressful, stomach-churning, worrying day of keeping my fingers crossed. A day spent fervently hoping that the security measures taken were robust enough to prevent catastrophe.

Happily, come last Wednesday, President Biden and Vice President Harris were inaugurated without a hitch. I watched, along with hundreds of other people on my socials, and felt part of something huge. Isn't it mad when you feel so affected about people you've never met? I've not bothered with a royal wedding since Andrew and Fergie (and don't I feel sick about him now!) but seeing elected officials make history, and witnessing democracy triumph in the exact spot an insurrection took place two weeks earlier? Well. Let's just say it was special. Afterwards, I felt catharsis. The same as I do after a fab night out, shooting the breeze with friends, (Hi Wolf!) and blowing off steam. 

Now, the US doesn't get a new President every week. We need to keep searching for those opportunities to make an event out of what's going on. My next social extravaganza took place on Saturday night when I culturally appropriated Burns Night. (It's tonight really, but Saturday is my Eating and Drinking Lovely Things' Night). Yes, I can only apologise to everyone who is actually Scottish for realsies, but I cooked a sort of haggis, made shortbread, tried whisky (again) before reconfirming it's not for me, and found a few Robert Burns poems performed on YouTube. It took a bit of planning, meant I got to try some new recipes, and livened up what would have been another night in front of the TV. 

I'll start my Welsh research now.

I'm now looking ahead for any event coming up, onto which I can shamelessly piggy-back. I never usually care about Pancake Day, so I guess I could go to town on that. St. David's Day is a little over a month away. Perhaps I should embrace the new home of my immigrant parents and fill an evening with all things Welsh. Then there's Easter - something else I haven't paid much attention to for a while. I'll get thinking. The good news is that as I look at my calendar and see all the indoor plans I can make over the coming weeks, I'm far too tired to worry about leaving the house. I'm happy to give a big night out a swerve for now.

Have a lovely week, folks.