here for a year

This is me in 2014: in Edinburgh a few days ago, in Vienna a couple of weeks ago, and in Sheffield for the Doc Fest. I have been reading novels and short stories and essays hungrily. I have started taking pictures with my grandfather's old camera again. I have made plans and jokes and I have spent my lunch hour with friends and I have watched football by myself in the pub. I have been in London for a year. I have been in London for a year and nothing sums up this year better than this: I have watched football by myself in the pub.

I always felt that watching football (or any other sport - preferably stuff involving snow) encourages and enables my favourite form of togetherness, a kind of lazy quietude where no one says anything clever, where no one says anything at all even, where you reach a level of comfort where you can just float away into a sea of banality. It takes years, perhaps a lifetime, to reach that point. Definitely not something that you get when you watch football by yourself in a pub.

A year in which I have learned to love those I love even more. Because every time I see them (too rarely), I'm struck anew by how much I like them. Or, as my brother said when he dropped me off at the airport, 'Maybe I'll come visit you in London after all. Every time I see you I remember how much I like you and how much I like spending time with you.' Same, little brother. Same.

K & N

Yesterday night we went to the Heurigen. Heurigen are sort of like Viennese beer gardens, only they're all about wine, not beer, and they're often tucked away in back gardens next to vineyards. We always go to the same Heurigen, we've been going there forever. It's one of my favourite places in Vienna, one of my favourite activities: walk up the hill, find a table, drink strawberry punch, eat spinach strudel, take it easy. When we walked back home, we sang sentimental songs and danced down the deserted streets for a bit.

'We' - that's my brothers and I. We've always been close, but ever since my annus horribilis (break ups, goodbyes of all sorts, university-related trouble, dissertation-writing and a whole lot of anxiety) these two have become even more important. 'You guys are a bit strange', that's what my brother's friend said the other day. I guess that's true, and that's what I'll miss, that sort of easy companionship that comes with knowing (and living with) someone for decades. One of the strangest things about leaving Vienna (leaving for more than just a year) is knowing that we won't be able to do silly things together on a daily basis - such as being confused about Star Trek or singing along to Take That or throwing things at each other. I have weekend visits to look forward to - but whose clothes will I borrow? And who will cut my hair when I'm gone?

ch-ch-ch-changes

It's been a while. I went to Rome. On the day I came back from Rome my boyfriend came to Vienna. Three days later I spilt a glass of water over my computer and it broke. Then I went to Durham for a few days. Enough to keep anyone busy.

But when I was in England I also went to London for a day. For a job interview. And I got the job. And I danced around in my pyjamas a lot.

I'll be moving to London in less than a month.