New Year's Eve: A Family Affair

Happy 2015! Christmas officially feels as though it never happened. It came and went so quickly that I still have a bottle of Winter Jack out in the kitchen that I didn't even get a chance to open. My head is still spinning and there's nothing but a few leftover chocolates and a lingering feeling of exhaustion to suggest that Christmas ever happened at all.

And now suddenly it's 2015. I'm glad. 2014 was an odd year for me, almost like a stopgap, which went by in a blur of confusion and, as we went from November to December, I was happy to get the last few dregs of the year over and done with and start on a new one. I had my annual, "Next year I will sort out my life and transform myself into a wonderful, fully-functioning grown-up human being" pep talk and, after that, New Year's couldn't come quickly enough.


I'm not a big fan of New Year's Eve generally. Anywhere you go is crowded and overpriced, the streets are full of drunk people collapsed in the gutters and there's too much pressure regarding outfit choices for my liking. Of course, last year I did the whole posh seven course dinner thing with the Beacon. Despite almost eating myself to death and having to beg the waitress not to bring any more food to the table and then being forced to smile politely while a cluster of teenage hotel workers gushed over my date ("Oh I love your accent!" "Oh, you're a pilot? Amazing!") I had a wonderful time. True, I was in bed by 1am like a true old person, but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

Clearly this New Year would not involve any fancy hotels or American men, but I was determined to enjoy it all the same. My sister-in-law, Rachael, was planning a New Year's Eve party in the house, which eliminated my concerns about New Year's crowdedness, over-priced alcohol, drunks in gutters and difficult wardrobe-related decisions (clearly I did not need to squeeze myself into a pair of spanx when I was only going as far as my brother's house). There was a slight moment of panic on December 30th when Rachael phoned and said she hadn't actually invited anyone to the party, but, by some miracle, she managed to round up plenty of guests by the next evening.

Highlights of the night included three year old Sophie's full-length rendition of Let it Go, complete with actions and improvised lyrics ("I'm never po-ing pack, a past is in a pack"), Auntie Linda sporting a particularly fetching Christmas hat my mother had picked up for 50p in the Christmas sales, and trying to explain the concept of the New Year to Lauren.

It was less than ten minutes until midnight and she was beginning to get tired. I could see her eyes starting to droop. I sat down next to her and tried to encourage her to stay awake for just a little longer.
"In just a few more minutes, it will be a whole new year." I said. "2014 will be gone and it will be 2015. An entirely new year!"
"It's a fresh start," My dad chipped in. "So you can make new plans and resolutions. You can be whatever you want to be."
Lauren considered this for a few seconds before saying, "So...can I be naughty?"

We ushered in 2015 to the sound of Big Ben and my brother's cries of despair when he realised I'd drunk half his bottle of Jack Daniels. I snatched the first kiss of the year from Ellis, who actually tore himself away from the Playstation for the occasion.

January 1st was spent, for the most part, curled up in bed, trying to summon the strength to go downstairs and pour myself a glass of water. My parents (who are meant to be old) went out to watch a live band and have a few drinks, while I, aged 23, napped. Clearly my boringness is something that really needs to be addressed in 2015. 

That, and several hundred other things...