2013. The odd year is here. Year of 23. Year of firsts. In two days I move to a new city, with Joe. Our first home. A week on Monday I start my new job. Today I have been packing and organising and folding and airing. New Years Eve was wonderful. Bubbles and girls followed by pubs and men offering free drinks (in a friendly way, not a hopingforadate way) and views over Bristol from the suspension bridge and fireworks and champagne. I don’t think I’m alone in saying I started the 2013 a little hungover, but I think I’m off to a good start. I’m not going to list all my resolutions, but the general jist is to try new things (check!) and embrace life a little more, stop worrying about things before they happen (because often they don’t), eat more veg and buy some trainers and *dundunduuuun* become a runner. It’s something I’d really like to try. And when I try things I tend to get hooked (ie. gym), and I figure running would be something very nice to be hooked on. Living in a city will make this easier (I prefer running in boring places like parks rather than the fields and country lanes where I live but this is simply because I’m a wimp and can’t stop looking behind me). Basically I just want to be a bit more positive. Because I think I am essentially a positive person but a lot of the time it’s hidden under blankets of worry. Which is silly. I also want to see more of my wonderful lovely friends. Especially Natasha because I haven’t seen her in an age and this makes me sad. And just generally, be a little social bee. It’s not hard. Anyway, this may be the longest post I’ve ever done, and nobody even reads it! Happy New Year tumbles.