I’ve just moved into a share house in Camberwell, an eastern suburb of Melbourne, where I’ll be living for 4 weeks. Tonight, I’ll be sleeping in my 35th bed this year.
Ok, confession time: I am an extremely introverted person. We’re talking, like, nearly all the way to one end of the introversion-extraversion scale.
I feel like introverts, and introversion in general, are widely misunderstood.
The latest chapter of my wacky Australian adventure saw me driving from Melbourne to Perth (4000km in 9 days), then flying across the continent the next morning from Perth to Townsville (4700km in 1 day).
You guys, I just turned 30 last month. 30. Remember when we were kids and thought 30 was OLD? I mean geez, my parents were younger than that when they had me.
When I look back at 2014, I think: Man, I worked hard and accomplished a lot.
I’ve long been a preacher in support of living a balanced life. It’s why you’ll never find me staying late at the office or bragging about how I went to the gym 6 out of 7 days last week.
I have a confession to make: I’m slightly addicted to Tinder.
(Note: Tinder is a phone app used for a ‘hot or not’ sort of online dating. If you’re intrigued and want to know more, this page can get you up to speed.)
This whole *packing up my life and moving to Australia* thing has been WAY easier than I expected it to be. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for an emotionally trying few weeks before departure, and so far I’ve been fine.
55. The approximate number of hours I spent sprawled out in the back seat of our rental car during our 8 days driving around Iceland at the end of this past summer.
“THERE’S A VOLCANO ALERT FOR ICELAND!”, Becca texted me last week, just 11 days before we were due to fly to Reykjavik.
I immediately took to The Google, which confirmed that an orange alert had been issued due to “intense seismic activity at the Bardarbunga volcano [which]indicates the potential for a disruptive ash event similar to 2010”.
On January 1, New York and I celebrated our 6 year anniversary. Except, unlike previous years, it didn’t feel like much of a celebration. I wasn’t happily toasting to another year of living in New York City – I was wondering how many more years I’d be ringing in here, and what would come next.
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