Moving to the other side of the world turns you into a bit of a five year old. It’s been that long since most of us needed to actively go out and make new friends.
For me I joined a book club (hi Megan!), became a Lady who Blogs (hi Emma!), a kiwi who brunches (hi Everyone!) and briefly tried netball (no shout outs here, I was too busy dying).
As an expat you put yourself out there live never before and as well a making new friends, this process helps you to clarify exactly who you are, what you like and what you believe in.
But in all this new friend making fun, lets not forget those who were already silly/awesome/crazy enough to call you friend. They are always going to be there – just because you move away does not mean you loose that connection.
When your chosen country gets too hard or even so amazing that you just need to share your friends are there on Skype, Facebook, email, letter and even frighteningly snapchat.
Being an expat can be impossibly hard at times, but your solar system of friends are there for you weather they are a tube ride or a hemisphere away.
You may have noticed a lack of blog activity in the last couple of weeks. Work has been crazy busy and the long hours has left no space in my brain (or hours in the day) for blog writing. The lack of posts is seriously starting to get to me, it not just a blog I am interrupting its the longest challenge I have ever been involved in.
About a week after I started blogging I committed to the personal challenge of posting something every day for a year. It was decided on a whim but I have surprisingly stuck with it. I had never been able to write in a diary for longer than a week, and the closest thing to a long term project was university (which was not exactly the creative outlet I wished it was), so getting close to a year of blogging is incredible.
Apart from at brief break over Christmas and a few days in New York I was going strong. But then with 342 posts down and only 23 to go a busy work schedule got in the way. In a previous life this would have been enough to make me give it up entirely, but hey – this is the new me.
I am not going to let this little blip derail me – after all the entire point of a challenge is that it is challenging. I am going to just pick up where I left off and continue telling you lovely readers about my London adventures.
Talk to you soon.
I wan’t to go to Paris because of this:
And of course this:
And finally this:
I know it has been a while since my last Happiness Project update, mostly because it has been working so damn well. Those little projects with short term goals have turned my life around and made me a happy camper. It has made me think of happiness as a fluctuating emotion rather than a magical life that I am missing out on.
But like all projects it is something that you need to constantly work on, particularly when you are worried about New Zealand shaking itself apart and you can’t do a damn thing about it. So this week I am going to start on micro Happiness Project called three little things to give me a bit of a boost.
The rules are simple, pick three easy things that you have to stick to for a week. Make sure you write them down somewhere that you can see every day, and make sure they are so small that it only takes a little effort to complete them. Then at the end of the week you will not only have completed three goals, but also have made your life better in three small ways.
My three little things for this week are:
1. No buying food while at work (this can be a serious money drain)
2. Screens off by 10pm (I could watch iPlayer till the early hours without intending to)
3. Two lots of exercise
Easy right? That is entirely the idea.
Sometimes people simply amaze me. When a friend of a friend had a spare front row ticket to a new ballet at the Royal Opera House – she offered it to me.
It was an offer based on mutual ballet appreciation, and one that I will never forget.
This kind stranger didn’t want anything in return and I only hope that one day I can pass the culture vulture love on to another unsuspecting stranger.