Hola amigo la vida loca!

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “what an extensive Spanish vocabulary you’ve developed since I came back to Madrid in January Siobhan!” Don’t be too impressed that is literally every Spanish word I know cluttered into one short but incredible sentence.

So yesterday I was clearing out my room and singing along to Taylor Swift’s 1989 when I found my frog bracelet. This will probably sound like we’re amphibian-loving-lunatics to those readers that aren’t in the know, but Spontaneous Day will forever be a highlight in my calendar. I sent you a picture of said bracelet but alas, I was doomed to watch my phone in it’s never-ending state of untroubled placidity. You didn’t reply to me, and baby now we’ve got bad blood.

This in turn reminded me that 1. you’re a bitch, and 2. of that time I suggested we write blogposts/letters to each other like the millennial asshats we are. You wrote me a post about five months ago (I can’t actually be bothered to work out what February minus October equals… I don’t even think that’s how you’d work it out?) and now it’s my turn.

Rationalisations over: I miss you! You’ve been gone for absolutely ages and I miss our wine nights that inevitably end in post-pizza bitching sessions and wine-fuelled whining. You are the only other person who finds [insert Tumblr baby joke] funny, and there’s nothing better than passing our final judgements on messed up loafs. You get me?

I am saving up money for a plane ticket to Madrid, as well as trying to figure out a mutually free time with April so we can come and invade your new Spanish life for a while. Of course I’m coming to see you but I’ve also heard so much about Tinto de Verano that it’s taken on it’s own appealing form that I’m willing to pay money to try. I’m not so keen on seeing the ‘strange goat creature in Plaza Mayor’ but you won me over with the promise of cute dogs.

Hull, as I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear, is a boring hell-hole as usual. Everything is so dull Rosy, you have no idea. I actually offer to accompany Jacob on his errands just so I can see something other than the old ladies in Co-Op occasionally. Writing is going well but it’s extremely difficult to stay motivated or creative when the highlight of your day is listening to the drama that goes on in the house across the street. They had a hot tub delivered the other day, who buys a hot tub in England? Colossal ballaches, that’s who.

Anyway, I think we should make this back-and-forth a usual thing. Maybe they’ll make a book of our letters which will eventually become a movie. I want Keanu Reeves or Emma Stone to play me, perhaps Bruce Willis in the action scenes? I’ll think about it.

Your sun and stars,