New Year

I have been in Sevilla for nearly a year.

You can tell because I stopped calling it Seville a few months ago in an attempt to show off my Spanish skills.

Really, though, slightly-disappointing Spanish skills aside, 2013 was a good year.

If you’d asked me just one month ago, I would have told you that it had been one of the hardest years of my life; and that to top it all off, it had ended badly. I was wrong.

They say that sometimes things fall apart so that better things can fall together.

That’s exactly what happened.

Just about a year ago, I was still living in Paris. No, wait. Wrong choice of words. I was dying in Paris. Paris has this effect on me that it kills every little bit of happiness and hope I have ever felt.  Yes, I hear you, Paris is magic and beautiful and so wonderfully French. Well, how about a genuinely awakening experience next time you’re in the city: go live one week with my mum in the suburbs and see if you still feel like bloody Amélie.

Fortunately, the older I get, the better I seem to be at making random but genius decisions (if you have heard the body shot story from 2 days ago, this my friend, is the exception that makes the rule).

Going to live and work in Sevilla was a very random choice, but I don’t think that I could be any happier today, had I decided on anything else. Sometimes things just feel right. Like making that move. Taking that job. Renting that flat. Getting half naked on a bar. No, no,no. Scrape that last one!

2013 was a year for meeting new people and discovering new things. For trying new sports. For losing my job. 

                                                               Twice.

2013 was about all kind of heartbreaks. About finding better jobs and making friends.

Like I said, not all of it was easy. But if I told you how lucky I am today, you wouldn't believe me. I don’t even believe it myself. I didn't just meet good people, I met the best people. The kind who will surprise you with champagne on your birthday, lend you their flat for a week when you’re homeless, or buy you a sandwich for you to eat while you watch them sort out your CV. They’re the kind of people that make you want to write in your blog how grateful you are to have them in your life.

2014 will be a year for spending time with them. For kissing guys in clubs. For working my dream job. For NOT lying on bars covered in cream and alcohol ever again. For living the life, and writing about it.

Happy New Year people!