summing up the 12

New Year´s Eve baccalá, empty freezing square, faithful friend. The return to the city of over a million and the return of the ex who seems determined to become a non-ex but will eventually fail again. The birthday and the carnival, the little cheetah girl with the red nose, no pancakes, do it again, laugh. Hikes and love, the tick, his friends slowly becoming mine and his friends slowly fading away. “I just forget to buy you flowers”. Brother´s nuptial feast while excruciatingly detaching. The void, the black hole, finally the rage. The recovery. The rumpus dot net. Cheryl Strayed and Stephen Elliott. Tiny beautiful things (that I deserve). Motorbike with the Londoner. The 100-yrs-old-happy-birthday-nonna-party. Meet-up group, riding my bike against the pole at night ´cos the river is so nice, how can you not look at the river instead of looking at the street? Venice with the insane millionaire on the watertaxi, your friend´s hideous wife at the same freaking airport (please let me go). Summer (sort of). Tennis: the challenge. Internations and his roommate (please let me fucking go). High Summer (still sort of). The bbqs. Bonnie´s angry perversity. Poker, the German-Andalusian Antonio Banderas: explosion of admiration (too bad it´s too late, too bad it´s too much). The little Buddha, Happy Old Soul, Green Pedestrian Crossing.  Silence. Deuter on my shoulders, Oviedo (but you bought me cookies!)-Leon-Santiago. Trails, leaves, blisters, ocean, rain, sun, wind. The Camino friends. Lo Sprao. Awake your soul. It´s awake. Cabbot Cove and Murder she wrote. Finis Terrae. Commencement of a smile. We *heart* Emilia concert. Bocconotti. Non-awkward yet non-appropriate friend-love. Caregiver-chaos. The neverending Budget. Meeting, ppt-avalanche, workshop.  Infinity. The queen of presentations. The dimple-sweetie charming private taxi driver for a night, stinky mango Arbre Magique. Throw it away. Funfair and Funfriends. UN. The interview. Dear GentlemeNTS. (How can I possibly write that!) FFM, Goleador and falling crown. SIAM. Ah, you are going to fall for Bangkok! Not really. Birthday- (non properly delicious-)cocktail on the top of the sky. Delightful Omaba 2.0 (at the Cambodian border to the American who –unsolicited- started talking to “us guys”: “Congratulations, I have just learned that Obama won!!” “Uh, yeah. Thanks you.*pause before confession*. Actually I voted for the other guy”. Well, schade, North Dakota pastor, maybe next time…). The S-p-l-e-n-d-i-d Angkor Wat. G-o-r-g-e-o-u-s Bayon. Tears. Goodbye beloved nonna, I want to hug your ashes. Silk, sun, burn, helmet-free moped, island, mangroves, lagoons. Honeymoon. Orchids, plane, home. Jim Thompson. Thanks for friends and cranberry salad. Human spinning top. Psycho-date, Sweetheart-date. Concert-concentration. Pre-Raphaelite Florence, Adventslieder for my slow friends, no-go-glances. Lina tattoo. Tsunami club, my poor dead bike. Nearly stranger around my blanket. Where are you? I still want you and don´t want to want you. Le Amiche week end. Exhaustion. Delicious Brunello, we *heart* Eric and Oscar. And Werner. And the big screen. And the movies and bread and cheese. Tennis reloaded surprise: I am not that bad at all!  Christmas market, Christmas party with Rudolph and Wixer, Banksy-genius. Home sweet home, Christmas x3, virtual Gazelle on its way, away - to the mountains- we go. Nonna´s function. Five, four, three, two, one. Gone.  

Oh, happy year.