2010.

2010 (if we're doing it like this again) has been a year of travelling; of foreign cities and moving trains and picnic lunches with cheese and bread. In 2010 I came back to London in the snow, booked a trip to Paris, made up with friends, hung out in Manchester and Cambridge and Lincoln, rode on the Eurostar, climbed the Eiffel Tower, got into politics, revised and wrote essays, ran the Race for Life, moved house, travelled Europe on a shoestring, made fortune tellers and ran around in playgrounds with children on playscheme, pub quizzed my way around Conwy, climbed Snowdon, went to Bratislava, Budapest and Vienna with the fam, moved back to London, turned twenty-one, had major birthday celebrations, dressed up, broke up and went to Krakow. In 2010 there were cameras and city maps, mosquito bites and birthday cakes, swing sets and sunflowers, bunk beds and felt tip pens. There were tears and laughter and squiggly nerves as well, but you know what, there always will be, so what the hell. Stop mentioning it, Jess.