Ya'll Comedy Diva is all kinds of awesome!

I am more than a little in love with the website ComedyDiva. It's fantastic. Filled with witty and fun videos, cartoons and much more, I highly encourage taking a look at it if you want a good laugh.

Anyway, I stumbled across this and had to share it. For everyone who knows someone who might be just a little too into Pinterest, here is a cautionary tale  . . . Enjoy! 

Brilliant or Bonkers: "Muscle Music" Edition

We had a few weeks of really nice weather here in London. We had a bit of (dare I say it) summer (not enough, of course) and I promptly fell off the face of the world for a bit. First there was an unexpected trip home, then the Olympics, a new writing project and now its nearly September . . . I have no idea where the time has gone. It's completely bonkers.  But, as it's nearly autumn, and I always think of autumn as a good time for getting things back on track, I'm back to blogging. Sorry about that.

So, here we go. Another brilliant or bonkers . . .

I seriously can't tell how I feel about this ad. The technology behind it is fantastic allowing the viewer to make 'muscle music' is inspired  . . . the hot guy is definitely a plus, but the screaming 'muscle' over and over again? Um . . . yeah, not so much. What's your verdict: Brilliant or  Bonkers?




Old Spice Muscle Music from Terry Crews on Vimeo.

Addicted to Revenge

It's been such a washout of a summer here in London. In any given day it can rain, sleet, hail and then the sun will make a valiant effort and attempt to shine. But mostly, the weather has erred on the side of miserable.

That's probably why I've been finding myself escaping to the Hamptons this summer. Yes, I'm originally from Long Island (not that area of Long Island!), so in a way it's like coming home for the summer. The sunshine, the endless beautiful beaches, the beautiful people, the scheming the plotting the desperate need for REVENGE!

This is such guilty pleasure TV, but honestly I'm addicted. I can't wait to see what will happen next as Emily Throne takes on Queen Victoria in a battle royale for revenge and control of the Hamptons. It's brilliant to see a heroine like Emily who essentially is doing some pretty unlikable things in her quest to get retribution against the people who wronged her father. There are moments where you realize that you are rooting for the utter downfall of characters and then wonder does Emily's punishment fit their crimes? Only time, and the plot of this series will tell . . .

Panda Awareness Week (London Style)

There are so many reasons why London is an amazing city. I could list them for days. The upcoming Olympics, the fantastic culture, museums, restaurants and world heritage sites. I could go on and on . .  . but I won't.

Instead, here's London celebrating World Panda Week in style yesterday at Trafalgar Square! Why  yes, those108 Panda's are performing Tai Chi.  Enjoy!

Fourth of July on Mars . . .

Since I moved to the UK there are only two US holidays that I really struggle with, the first is the Fourth of July and the second is Thanksgiving. I struggle because they are so uniquely American, so integral to what makes Americans, well...American, that you can't find anything similar to them in the UK. Despite what Americans, think they are not global holidays. My first Thanksgiving in the UK was horrible.  I spent the day putting on a very brave face. I was a week into my first job in a foreign country and I didn't want to seem like a whiny kid. When I got home, my English husband of just over a month had prepared a feast of wine, chicken and chips and cake. I had asked him not to make/buy anything American because it just wouldn't be the same. I burst into tears. This wasn't Thanksgiving. It wasn't even close. I called home and spoke to my family, kept my voice light and thought, I can do this, I can do this.

But I really couldn't. It wasn't 'til about two years later that I understood why I couldn't.

Being in a foreign country (for the long haul, for life) on the same day as an important holiday back in the homeland is like celebrating the Fourth of July on Mars. It's just another day. It has no meaning. The idea that something fundamentally important to your life is just another day is beyond depressing. It's also beyond comprehension. Because that day, that day that you spent the first 20 odd years of your life marking as vital, as special, is now just another day. The loss of that specialness, that uniqueness, broke my heart. You can say all you want that you'll keep the holiday in your own way (more on that later), but you don't. You allow yourself to be changed. You give away this piece of yourself to fit into this new world that you live in. Giving up that part of yourself, the part that expects fireworks, family, BBQs and the beach, is filled with a sense of loss.

The people I've met in the UK are really lovely, and do listen to me natter on and on about brilliant Fourth of July memories, or why it's important (which is really above and beyond, considering it's our Independence Day from their country), but it's not the same.

This year will be my 6th Fourth of July in the UK. I have to work. Usually I take the day off. So does my husband. We get up early and go out somewhere. Anywhere. If the weather is nice we go to the beach. If it's dreadful (which seems to be the theme this summer) we'll go to a movie or museum. We mark the day by being together. Our first few years I used to tell my husband that the Fourth of July was a "presents holiday." He didn't believe me, but I think he went along with it because of how glum I tend to get. I told him that if he didn't give me a present every Fourth of July I had the right, as an American, to declare Independence. So now I always get a little present every Fourth of July. Is it the same as seeing my family? Is it the same as the fireworks? Is it the same as having the day off and chilling at a BBQ or by the beach? No.

Part of moving to a new country means you have to take on new holidays--some are fantastic (I am the world's biggest supporter of Boxing Day--getting the day after Christmas off--jackpot!), others will be as incomprehensible to you as the Fourth of July is to them (Guy Fawkes Day). In the process of taking on new holidays you have to find a way to assimilate the days that matter to you into this new country, this Martian landscape which at times feels so familiar and yet is so different. It's about the things you do to make new traditions that matter. You can't force a holiday or feeling on another country. But you can make something new. Something that becomes special.


So, this year I'll get my 'don't declare independence day' present, and on Thanksgiving we'll have chicken and chips, because that's our tradition. It will never be the same as when I lived in the US. It can't be.

I'm alright with that. It's new. And while new is strange and scary, sometimes it's wonderful too.

Happy Fourth of July!

An Open Letter to Katniss Everdeen

Remember how I promised to finally do a Hunger Games post this month? Well, I have. This is my Open Letter to Katniss Everdeen after reading the entire series. {{Warning this post contains spoilers}}


Dear Ms Everdeen,

Actually, we’ve been through a lot together, three books, is it ok if I call you Katniss? Too bad I just did. I’m writing to you because I think we need to have a chat. You are fictional, so I know you won’t respond, but after reading your adventures I wanted to say a few things. First, as a hero, you really let me down. You had your moments where I thought, wow, baring your ridiculous name, you are incredible. You face insurmountable odds and triumph. You bring down a government with a single act of defiance. When I was a kid, I would have wanted to be you. When I have kids, I’ll want them to read your story. You are an inspiration. 

 And then there was Mockingjay. I always struggled with you as a character. You were just this side of likeable and then you crossed the line. You went to Crazytown, took up residence in a small condo on the River of Despair (the South Shore, just north of Utter Failure Town) and decided to become one with a drain pipe. It was terrible. I attach a file copy of my map of Crazytown*. This was recently commissioned by some good friends of mine because in life you never know how often you will need to take out your trusty map of Crazytown and let people know where they have gone when they leave the grid.

 After railing against your mom for curling up in bed and neglecting you and your sister after the tragic death of your father, you essentially did the same thing. Only you curled up around a drain pipe. I have to say, with your fame (or infamy) I should have thought you could have found a better place to have a breakdown? However, I understand, you had been through a lot, there was that whole PTSD thing. Not the mention the fact that between the Capitol and District Thirteen everyone was looking for ways to use and exploit you. That does bring about a certain level of depression, granted. But what happened to your ‘leave no man behind’. What happened to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves? What happened to Peeta? For that, Ms Everdeen, as a hero, you failed me.

 Second, as a reader, I failed you. I expected you to be more than you are. You are a girl. A wounded, damaged, broken girl who was asked to take on something far too big for her. Something that you admitted many times you weren’t good at—let’s be honest Peeta was the brains, he was the man of words and you were the girl of action. You saved his life time and again in the arena and he saved yours on the stage. Together, you were a fantastic couple. Alone, you are both just a bit broken and sad. As a reader, I wanted you to be fantastic always. I wanted you to be a hero all the time. I didn’t want you to be a person, people are boring they have real problems. Heroes have adventures. People are complicated, they breakdown, they fall apart, many times they need someone to kick their arse out of bed (or out from the cupboard with the drainpipe) and into action. Heroes just do the right thing because they have no other choice. I wanted you to always do the right thing. I wanted more. For that, I’m sorry.

 Because of Mockingjay I got to see you as a person. In the end it made the experience both frustrating and richer. I still wanted you to bitch-slap Gale after what went down with Prim. Honestly, that boy had it coming. But you didn’t. You lost yourself for a long time. I didn’t even get to see the process of you coming back to who you were, that was all rushed through in a sloppy epilogue. For that, I’m sorry. You had a rich adventure, both inside and outside of the arena. A story that I loved so much I’ve taken the time to write you this letter. I’m sorry I let you down as a reader.

 Yours,
Genn xoxo

 PS- How are the kids that you said you never wanted to have, but then did because Peeta talked you round (see, I told you man of words!) and Peeta?


*Map of Crazytown below for reference.

Where I've Been . . .

I spent much of the month of June out of the office (and country). I was back in my homeland (USA) for both work and visiting my family. Don't worry, they'll be more posts and photos (or maybe you should worry? Not sure yet, posts aren't written yet!).

But, as I get my feet back under me and slip back into my daily grind here is something that made me beyond happy. I'm sure I'm not the first person to post this (probably more like super late to the party) but if you've missed it here is the fantastic Maroon 5 Game of Thrones Parody. I'm a self confessed Game of Thrones addict. I love books. I read the first three back to back last summer. Then I took a break. About a year long break. I think my husband might have politely asked me to put the books down for a bit when I was beginning to develop unhealthy obsessions with fictional characters. Anyway, I still have books four and five to read, probably this year. In the meantime, if like me, you've just watched the end of Season Two and are feeling a bit Game of Thrones deprived than this is the perfect antidote. Be warned that the video contains spoilers so watch it at your own risk if you haven't seen Season Two yet! Enjoy!

A blip on the road trip of your life

This weekend I met up with a good friend of mine who I hadn't seen in years for far too much wine at outdoor pub on sunny Saturday afternoon on the South Bank. We met for the first time years ago when be both worked for a non-profit book publisher in New York City. It was one of those first jobs that you have fresh out of college. A job that seemed so important, so big and so pointless. A job that even though you were technically proficient, even great at your job, somehow took something out of you. Wore you down.

Essentially sucked your soul out through your eyeballs.

It got me to thinking about all the things I wish I could go back and tell my 20 something self. There's a lot of them. Bear with me . . .

A note to my 20 something self . . . 

These will be hard years. It's not about growing up or dealing with the real world that will make these years hard, its how woefully unprepared you will be. Even given your childhood, your four years of college, you will still be a 20 something child for the first half of this decade. You will still want to please everyone. You can't. You won't. Give that up now.

Everyone will give you great advice. Most of it will even be sound. You won't listen to a word of it. It's ok, that's how it should be. There comes a point in time where you have to just learn. Live. Words. Advice. Hindsight. It will all come later. Now is the time to be fearless. Enjoy.

You will lose people who you didn't know you could live without. And yet, you'll live.

You'll learn how to do a million things that will seem impossible. At the time they will seem probable. The only real option. It's not until later, when you think back to your tiny apartment and the ramen noodles you ate three times a week that you'll wonder how did I live like that? Could I do it again?

Yes. The answer is always yes. You wouldn't want to though.

You'll make decisions now that will matter. Decisions that in a decade you'll wonder about. Decisions that felt throwaway at the time and then changed the course of your life. Don't over think things. Sometimes the only way to move forward is through. Move forward.

It will get harder and harder to make new friends. It will become harder to 'be yourself' an essential part of this 'real world business' is turning yourself into the professional you, the girl who wears dress shirts and pencil skirts and leaving the girl in paint splattered jeans and a hipster tees to the weekends. You'll wonder where you went. Why you can't make friends the way you used to.

You can't because you are only you some of the time. The best version of you. The weekend version of you. The rest of the time you are guarded. You are trying so hard to always look the part you are playing. It's not until much later that you'll let things slip, let people in, and realise that the you who you are on the weekends is always there, she just doesn't let her hipster/freak/geek/nerd flag fly enough.

You miss you. You miss the way you used to laugh. The inside jokes you had with close friends. You miss laughing about nothing. You miss laughing about an awful day. You miss the way you could laugh until you cried and then move on.

You'll be bonded to the salad day friends you make now. You'll remember tea and sympathy, the chronic time wasting emails about your career options when you give up your office job and become an Upper West Side nanny. You'll remember the heat of NYC, the post work walks around the Central Park Reservoir, riding on the swings at 8pm and wondering why it is no one goes on the swings anymore.

What age did it stop being cool to ride the swings? You want to go back to that version of yourself and smack her across the face. You want to tell her: THIS. NEVER. STOPS. BEING. COOL.

You'll remember Summer Fridays, margaritas in the afternoon in Harlem. Wandering down the streets singing the lyrics to 'On the Radio' at the top of your lungs with your best friend. People will think you're high. You're not. For the first time since elementary school it will be because you are happy in a way only an eight-year-old is. Every word has meaning. Every lyric feels right. So sing. It won't stop the world. You'll miss it years later when for some reason you can't understand you'll have lost your voice. Sing loudly. Who cares who's looking?

You'll remember these days years later. That cheap pair of pink ballet flats you wore all summer, until they were warped from the heat and falling apart. Until one day, in the middle of a massive NYC thunderstorm your right shoe falls off your foot in the cross walk. You'll chase after it, hop walking for the duration of the intersection, praying no one sees you, that a cab doesn't run you over, and slip the shoe back onto your foot. You'll remember that girl, the way she furtively dashed onto the sidewalk a smile on her lips. She got away with nothing, but she believed she did.

You will always think too much. You'll always be older than your years. It's a part of your upbringing, accept it and move on.


You will live in a tiny apartment in Queens with total strangers you found on Craigslist. They will be normal people. Not crazy. You got lucky.

Your room will be the smallest. In the summer your room is airless. So you will buy an air conditioner. Your hand-me-down TV has one volume-- too quiet. You can't watch TV and run the air conditioner at the same time so you alternate. You'll watch TV until the commercial break and then blast the AC. Your room will never cool down. The TV will never be loud enough. You'll read instead. Stacks of novels that you never would have read in your teens. Fantasy, YA, romance novels. Books you once deemed unworthy will consume your time.

You'll want to write. You'll feel its important, but you have no words. Everything feels too big. Too overwhelming. Words will come. Later. Don't stress.

You'll think about these days as the days when your skyline was dominated by the Empire State Building. How everyday when you leave your apartment and look right, there is the entire city spread out across the river, and the Empire State Building is all you can see. How each day you pass the Empire State Building, it's literally across the street from your job. You can't escape it. The colours on top of the building define your seasons. One building becomes integral to your experience.

Remember this because one day you'll leave your first apartment for the last time. You'll turn right, you'll wink to the Empire State Building. You'll be humming 'On the Radio' as you pull away from the city you love in the world's tiniest UHaul ready for another adventure. The first of many. This was just a blip on the road trip of your life.

Be brave and sing loudly.


 .

Workin' on that novel, eh?

Whenever I am feeling unproductive my husband likes to tease me with this clip from Family Guy. I love it. Stewie is insufferable, but then, so is Brian. And so am I when I'm procrastinating. Because honestly, who isn't a little bit annoying when they are moaning about needing to get down to working? Or how hard it is to work. It's called work for a reason.

This clip always makes me want to get down to work and not whinge. So win!

What gets you motivated when what you really feel like doing is curling up and watching the boxset of Supernatural/Community/Game of Thrones?

How The Hunger Games SHOULD have Ended

I love How it Should Have Ended and today's post comes to you from the fabulous Jenny, a brilliant writer, actress and world traveller who shared these videos with me. You can catch all her news and adventures over at Song Up In My Head. I posted the trailer for The Hunger Games when it first made its rounds on the internet. I wrote a blog post (for work) about The Hunger Games which you can read here. I could talk for ages about The Hunger Games and maybe one day I will. Just not today . . . I seem to be saying that a lot, don't I? Ok, one day this month I'll write a proper Hunger Games post. That feels much less vague. Win.

Until then, here's the brilliant How It Should Have Ended video.


(I love Peeta singing about camouflage)

 .  . .  and because we all love a good deleted scene, here's a rather fabulous one!

'The Barrack Ness Monster Ain't Buying It'

I can rant and rave about student loans and the massive pickle many of us have gotten ourselves into in order to pay for college. Maybe one day I will. But not today. Today, I want to flag up a brilliant appearance by President Obama on the Jimmy Fallon show.

This made me laugh and made me proud of the good ol' Barrack Ness Monster. I've got my fingers crossed they don't increase the Stafford Loan prices, as I can't remember if I am still paying one off or not.

Enjoy!

All the pretty voices . . .

So, my long term writing project is on hiatus for a bit. I've done a few read-thrus and I'm just about ready to let this one go off to readers. I just wanted to let it sit a bit longer and give it a final read, a final head scratch and then let it go for a while. I'm a bit reluctant to share anything with anyone. What happens if everyone hates it? Yeah, I've been over this a few times. No way of knowing if you don't let go.

Anyway, I'm trying to distract myself with something new. Or something old. I've got two promising projects that need to be finished. One is a really fun novel about a parcel of teens all out to investigate a nightclub where people check in and then don't check out . . . or do they? This was meant to be a light fun project, but it hasn't turned out that way. All my characters are angsty. They all have issues. What's worse is that I know the beginning section will need a serious amount of revision to make it all work . . .

So I have two choices I can A:

Have a major brain meltdown and carry on for a few days, inconsolable.

We're Not Young

The fabulous Sarah Cook Raymond keeps an equally fabulous blog and frequently she posts a Swagger Song. Last week she posted "We Are Young" which has quickly become a favourite song of mine. It's brilliant.

This week, I came across a parody version. I have to tell you this is hilarious and so true. Be prepared to laugh and cry, probably at the same time.

Enjoy.

Brilliant or Bonkers (Snow White and the Huntsman)

I really can't tell if this movie is going to be brilliant, bonkers or just over the top? This looks to me like it could be brilliant, but there are very very scary moments in the trailer than make me tilt my head and question-- bonkers? What do you think?

Happy First Day Spring! (And a wild promise)

Happy First Day of Spring!!!

My good friend over on Dear Librarian B blogged about 'Creative Spring Cleaning'. It's something I've been thinking about a lot as well. Now that the season has officially turned and we are heading into a period of growth, light and renewal, it's time to let go of old things. Of winter things, that have been holding me back. 

I've posted about rhinos. I've posted about unicorns. I've posted about what ifs.

And, in the spirit of growing things and progress I'm going to make a promise.

Come September, there will be a manuscript that is ready for querying. 

No what ifs. No unicorns. Just rhinos. 

Come September I'll also have run a 5k. 

How's that for a sweeping declaration on the first day of spring?

I'm going to try not to panic and instead enjoy the new season. There's so much more you can do with a few extra hours of daylight!

Happy Spring! 

Rhinos v Unicorns Round Two: The Rhino of Revision

I've got the big time fear on. I'm revising my manuscript. It's the first one that doesn't suck (and no, I'm not being too hard on myself). This manuscript is good. It's solid. It might be something great. I've done most of the hard work and I'm now in the process of getting it ready for trusted readers. I've already had some early partial feedback from my writing buddies and I know that what I have is a solid story. More than a solid story, maybe the story. The story that could actually go somewhere.

So of course, the fear has set in . . .

What if, even after all the work I've done, this sucks. What if I'm just deluding myself? What if? What if? What if?

GONE GIRL

How well do you ever really know the person you've married? That's the question GONE GIRL asks,

and let me tell you the answer is a doozy! I read a lot of YA, a bit of fantasy, but not a lot of thrillers. I admit this is a real gap in my reading. I just don't generally enjoy thrillers. 

However, GONE GIRL is so much more than a thriller. This is a tight, well paced psychological investigation into couples, marriages and the people we think we are, the people others think we are and the truth. 

Things I am not . . .

It's easy to get bogged down with all the things people expect you to be. Lately, I've been wrestling with the idea that there are a lot of things I'm not.

For instance, I am not a genie.

Yup, I don't grant wishes. Bummer right?

I am sadly not a T-Rex.

This is probably a good thing. A T-rex is scary dino.

Leap Out!

(That title is definitely to the tune of "Freak Out" in my head-- see, now "Freak Out" is probably stuck in your head too. Whoops!)

This year when I was home for Christmas one of my brothers remarked on the idea of a 'leap day'. 'Leap Day' is the 29th of February, but what if, one year every four years you could take a 'leap day' any random day you wanted. Just decide the day was too nice for work, or that the evening was too fine to be cut short, and so you declare you are going to 'leap out'. Take this time back for yourself. Not necessarily in gloomy, dark, cold February-- but how about in  May? June? October? A whole day, gifted back to yourself. This year our calendar 'leap day' falls on a Wednesday. It seems a waste for something so special to just be another 'hump day', right?

What about retaking that day for ourselves? It's a crazy notion, right?

Plans are like Dragons (or knowing when to plan)

Plans are like dragons. Seriously. Dangerous. Tricksy. Filled with the ability to derail you, destroy you or in some very rare cases fill your life with some unexpected but hard earned riches. Don't believe me? Think about it.

What does a good plan do? It challenges you. It allows you to get from point A to point B. Sometimes, it's filled with all these dangerous moments. Moments where you can get completely off topic and never get back. Plans are dangerous. People who plan are a little scary. A little bit like dragons. Either they are prickly, terrifying or sitting on a large amount of treasure they are trying to hoard.

I have since learned that your shocking ability to plan makes you part dragon.  We can now be friends. 

Things that make me happy . . .

GAME OF THRONES SEASON 2!

Really, that's all I can say without *squeeing* all over the place. Season 2, April 1st. I cannot wait! Last year I read the first three books in a breathless rush-- then I had to take a break. It got a bit too much for me. I can't say why on here (massive spoilers), but if you've read the third book, you know what I mean. This year I intend to read the next two books in the series. The books are fabulous and if you haven't read them. I highly recommend them. 

International Love is a Dangerous Thing Day

Today is my dad's birthday. I feel like I need to get that out there first, before I state the other obvious, today is also Valentine's Day. I've always been a bit eh to downright hostile about the day. As a kid, it was an excuse for my grandfather (my very first Valentine) to give me a box of chocolates (which c'mon when you are six is awesome!) and eat too much heart shaped candy. As a teenager I grew to hate the day. It's a Hallmark Holiday designed to make you feel bad. Why should a greeting card company dictate when I tell someone I love them? Shouldn't I tell that person (or people) every damn day?

I should. I do.

Life is too short not to tell the people that you love how you feel every day.

Oh, the things you find in Chinatown . . . .

Recently my husband and I were strolling through London's Chinatown. It looks stunning as the Chinese New Year has only recently passed (hello, year of the Dragon!) and most of the decorations are still up. For some reason, red paper lanterns make me happy. Stupidly, childishly happy.

Anyway, my husband bought this:

Doesn't that look adorable? Something you'd give to a small child as a party favour, right? 

Snow! (Welcome to Narnia!)

It doesn't snow that often in London. But when it does, the whole world just looks so different. 


Our back garden gate looks like something out of Narnia. 

See, you could just open that door and be in Narnia, right? Where is that bloody lamppost? And Mr Tumnus? Where's he at?

love to hate to read you, babe

I'm not a mean girl. I never was a mean girl. I'm pretty sure I was too spacey and borderline oblivious to be that clever, cunning or cruel as a teenager. I was probably a victim of many a mean girl, but somehow as a teenager I didn't let it phase me. I have to kind of respect that about me. Because really, with a red afro and perhaps not the best taste in clothes, I could have been pretty miserable. And yet .  . . I wasn't. Overall, I was a pretty happy person, still mostly am.

Narwhals: Fact not Fiction

Ok, so confession time. I really really thought Narwhals were fiction.


Yeah, you can laugh at me, but let's be honest, it's a unicorn whale. Seriously? The whole thing just sounds fake. Something PT Barnum made up, like the mighty 'egress' which people believed to be an animal in a menagerie, when really, its just a fancy way of saying exit. You go through to see the bird and get, well . . . an exit. It's funny when the joke isn't on you.

On Productivity, Hares and Tortoises

I had a really long Christmas break. The kind of break that takes up half of January as well. So, when I finally returned to to the UK I was all excited to get back to work. There were so many goals I'd set out for myself and so much work that needed to be done. I love that feeling when you get a plan together . . .

The problem with that feeling is that it's fleeting. As soon as you sit down and you look at all the things you want to accomplish there's this wave of fear that takes over. How will I ever get ALL of this done? A year isn't long enough? I don't know where to start. I'm terrified. I will just chock this all up to a loss now and move on. 

Stupid Angry Birds (mean green pigs!)

So I should be blogging. Or editing. Or reading. Or revising. Or swimming. Or yoga. Or running. Or something.


Definitely something.


Instead, I'm obsessed with Angry Birds.

Hello 2012 . . . (movies, resolutions and yes, I'm still around)

Has 2012 snuck up on anyone besides me? Possibly not. But I swear it felt like just a few days ago it was July 2011 and I was all excited about blogging. I guess I missed a few months there? Hm . . .


As we're into the first week of January I feel all ready to take on a new year. Well, as ready as I'm going to be. Of course, I'm still on holiday (so cheeky) so a few things will have to wait till I return from New York and am back in London.