So I hit Buenos Aires on Sunday.
'Tis going to be a 36 hour day, the 14 December, what with travelling back in time.
Thus has come an appropriate moment to reflect back on one of the most crazy 365 days of my life. If not the most insane year I have ever had to live thus far.
2008 has simply been two things for me: a year of extreme lows and a year of extreme highs. Nothing much in between.
Beginning of the year, I was on a completely different path as to what I am now. I was the editor of two websites; basically set to follow that vibe for the rest of eternity. Not a bad existence, until it all went tits up, that is.
Come March, in the space of a week, my life changed forever.
In one week, I got made redundant, experienced someone willing to stab me by getting into my face for my cellphone, my pet died, and I broke up with someone.
That week was the hardest of my life – and I'd say mainly because I felt like I'd suddenly lost everything. My safety and salary especially.
Fuck it was hard. I still panic when people walk up to my car. Driving can still be a serious issue for me, especially at night – and sadly, I hardly venture into town (where the smash and grab occurred) anymore. A part of Johannesburg I absolutely loved and embraced.
But I think with all that fuck off hardness, something changed in me this year. A lot of things changed, and thank fuck for it – although at the time I couldn't understand why this was all crappening. I certainly got fucking strong. It takes a lot now for me to wilt, in fact sometimes I think I'm too hard for my own good.
And then things suddenly went majorly right. I landed the job of my dreams; and since May have been working for an incredible company. I changed my career. I also travelled, in the space of seven months to:
London – twice.
Israel. (Never would've considered going there, and my job opened up this opportunity for me)
And now, on my own steam, South America.
I launched my first novel. The most surreal and incredible experience of my humble little life.
I took charge and control of everything – as a single person – this was important – sorting through all my shit, coming out, I believe, as a much better person than I have ever been.
I hurt someone, and I also experienced a long-distance liaison with someone who lived in the northern hemisphere. I moved out of my Illovo flat and into my own place. I was part of breaking a Guinness World Record in Zorba Greek Dancing.
I quit boozing for two months, and bought a piano by mistake. I won a blog award, and sat writing freelance articles for my supper for two months while I knitted scarves.
I nearly moved to London, all the documents were ready to go.
Who'd a thunk it after that disastrous week in March, now I don't think I've ever been this content and happy.
And. Currently and very recently, I am sleeping on Chester's Pillow.
Ches and I met each other about two years ago and have over these years, become great friends. And now we are, you know, seeing each other. He's really so great - inside and out, of course. We're having a lot of fun.
And another amazing thing – The Ant and The Gilb got engaged last week.
It's been coming for years; and he proposed to her at a fuck-off crazy altitude in Nepal. Somewhere near the base of Everest. I am so chuffed for my fabulous old Italian friend, I tell you what. And I am going to be one of her bridesmaids. I'll be two bridesmaids next year – what an honour, seriously.
So with that, 2008 has been one helluva ride. Can't say it's ever been boring – Jesus Christ – it's been fucking nuts.
And that's why I need a holiday. To absorb and reflect all of this – shoot the breeze, bond with Dad (who is bringing only an overnight bag, or so he tells me. Sigh) and experience a continent I've never been to before.
Thanks for sharing this year with me.
I will very irregularly keep you informed while there, on my travels, of:
1) If I'm alive and haven't been kidnapped/lynched/trafficked for cocaine
2) If Dad hasn't finally lost his marbles
3) What the glaciers in Patagonia look like
4) Experiencing Eva Peron fever (The truth is I never left you through all my wild days and mad existence....)
5) If Copacabana and Ipanema beaches are really what the songs say they are
6) Salsa and Latino and steak and espanol and mojito and peso and leather and, you know, stuff.
'Till then, Malaysian Airlines, (WTF is that all about....wrong continent, wrong direction), is flying me out at 4am on Sunday.