Everyone keeps saying the same thing.
I can’t believe it’s the end of 2015.
I can’t believe it either.
I still remember vividly standing on the beach in Midigama, Sri Lanka as the clock rolled lazily around to midnight and the locals banged beer bottles and buckets in celebration. I stopped in the midst of the chaos and I thought: fuck you, 2014. I’m ready for 2015. I was excited. I was smack in the middle of my first-ever solo trip, I was in a country that made me feel like a badass for getting there first, I was harbouring the hope in my heart that this year things were going to be really different.
I had an amazing job with people I truly loved and I enjoyed every day there. I had the sparkle of a potential new relationship. And I felt more confident and comfortable than I ever had before.
That was January.
In January, I travelled in Sri Lanka. Solo. I learned a lot about myself. I learned a lot about Sri Lanka. I even made a few friends.
I came home to find the boy I’d left behind had waited for me. And January was filled with all of the fun and shenanigans of a Sydney summer.
February
I was officially six months into my new job, and it was time for the big move. We uprooted an entire agency from a long residency in North Sydney (a place I said I never wanted to work), and we moved into the middle of Sy dney CBD. Our brand new office, in an old heritage building, was shiny and new. So much so that it felt stale and I found myself saying what I never thought I would: I missed North Sydney.
March
At the end of the month, we took a leap of faith and decided to have a little fun with a visit to a psychic down in Wollongong. One Sunday, we piled five girls into Katie’s roommate’s car and we were off. I was the second one through the door, as anxious as if I were going on a first date. What kind of predictions would she make about my future? And was I supposed to believe her anyway?
She smiled at me and called me ‘angel’. She touched my hands and told me how intuitive I was, and that my heart was my weakness. Then, as if it wouldn’t matter to me at all, she told me that I would publish a book. The first and only other time I ever had my charts read, I was told I would write a book that would result in most of the financial success in my life. That first prediction may have been the catalyst that led to my desire to write a book; but for a completely unrelated psychic, thousands of miles away, seven years later, to tell me the same… I was listening.
She went on to talk to me about a few people in my life, people who would come around this year but nothing serious. A friend that would have a baby (one who I thought had no interest in having children at the time – she’s due at the beginning of the year by the way). She told me I already knew my soulmate. She thought we were together at that time, but I was single. And I was the only one, out of four girls, whose relationship status she got wrong. I wasn’t with anyone. But she said that person just needed time. She said 2015 was going to be my year. I was going to spend it partying, travelling and smiling. She said that my parents thought of me every day and even though they missed me being so far away, only wished for my happiness.
The next weekend we went out dancing, and I think I smiled for the entire night. She was right, I was having fun.
April
In April, my boss resigned. And I knew that things at work were changing. For the second time, I was hired by a great creative who then moved on to bigger things. We spent Easter in Melbourne with Kelie’s mum. We drank wines by the river and walked for hours in the sun in the Royal Botanic Gardens and drank great coffee. By then, I had made the decision. I was going to meet my brother and his wife in Central America that summer. Kelie and I also decided it was time to do something about our shared interest in watercolour, and took a class. I was a hobby collector in 2015.
May
After googling Roatán, where we would be spending half of our time in Honduras, I knew that it was time for me to become someone I never thought I would be. A scuba diver. I spent my last two weekends in May getting my PADI Open Water certification with the hopes that I would have the once in a lifetime experience of diving with whale sharks in Honduras. It was winter in Sydney, and the water was really cold.
June
The first three weeks of June were a frantic rush of double workload, handovers, vaccinations and packing lists. Then, on 28 June, I was off. A 36-hour trip felt like days and I arrived bright and early on a Guatemalan morning to a near-empty airport.
My time in Guate was short but sweet. Then it was July and I jetted off to Honduras to meet my brother and his wife.
July
I searched for the elusive whale shark, which I never found. I moved on to Nicaragua, I made friends that I felt like I’d known my whole life. I climbed a volcano and boarded down the other side. I skinny-dipped in a volcanic lake. I fell in love with a backpacker, and then I hopped over to Costa Rica. I forfeited a lot of Costa Rica for Nicaragua, but it was nice to have that freedom. I didn’t get to Mal País or Juan Antonio. I barely made it across the zip line above the cloud forest. Then, a month had passed and I was on a plane back to Sydney.
August
I came back to Sydney to an onslaught of job offers that I wasn’t looking for. But one stuck. And suddenly, there I was leaving the agency I said I’d never leave, bidding ‘see ya later’ to my beloved team of digital designers. I came back from Central America with a new outlook on life and love, as well as my career. I was back in the game, just in time to meet someone new.
September
A whirlwind month where dating and working collided and spun around each other so fast it felt like I lived entire months in days. I spent three weeks looking after my friend’s dog. I learned what it was like to have something depend on you. And I realised how irresponsible I was.
There was a lot of good in September. And a lot of change.
October
I took advantage of a week of funemployment between jobs. I chose a place that I felt like I could spend a week in and not feel like I’d missed too much. I went to Bali. I met a group of solo travellers and together we formed one giant pack. My first day in Bali was packed with surfing, temples, partying and accelerated friendships {more on that later}. I went to Ubud and climbed a volcano at 2 am to watch the sunrise. I did yoga and didn’t like it. I moved on to Nusa Lembongan and snorkeled in crystal clear water with fluorescent starfish and giant manta rays. A week felt like a month; the amount I saw and felt, and the people I met. I had again left someone {new} behind. And I came home to find out he hadn’t waited. I started a new job, the busiest first month I had ever had and I knew I made the right decision.
November
My dating life was at an all-time high. The kind of fun I should have been having all along. I met someone who made me realise just how messed up {but really – funny} my dating life was. The final straw I needed to motivate me to make 2016 the year of the book.
My friends and I saw a lot. We laughed a lot in November.
We spent a girls weekend away down the coast at Culburra Beach, just north of Jervis Bay. We rented a beautiful little beach house and surfed in the rain. We drank wine and played bocce, and I welcomed new friendships.
December
November and December were chock-full of events. We saw Chet Faker, Florence + the Machine, went to Harbourlife, celebrated birthdays in Santa costumes, built gingerbread houses {and tied for first}. We celebrated a great year at the agency with an epic day on a boat. And with 3 days left in the year, I’m not done yet.
We’re watching the famous Sydney New Year’s Eve fireworks from Goat Island in the harbour, then, waking up and rallying on the 1st day of the brand new year to ring in 2016 at a music festival, Field Day.
I always say that it’s stupid to wait until the new year to make commitments about the kind of person you want to be. But sometimes the timing is just right. So this year, I’ll finish the book. I’ll finish writing about all of the trips I took in 2015. I’ll actually get my PR. I’ll keep having fun and we’ll find out if the psychic was right. Oh, and I need to learn to sew.
