"Dear blog..."

And suddenly, it is december. And I only realised because of the christmas trees and the lightening.
It feels like I´m exactly where I was two months ago, but I´m not. I tried to keep myself busy, physically and mentally, and I´ve done so well that time has passed by without me noticing. I´ve done so well that I haven´t had time to visit my parents in weeks, watch my shows, read the news (except for my daily 6 minutes everyday from 8:50 to 8:56, when I quickly browse the bbc website while drinking my coffee) or blog.
I didn´t blog about goals, which I hope I will do sometime soon because the idea has been whirling in my head for quite a bit of time now. I didn´t blog about african immigration (yes, again). I didn´t blog about bonds (I will, too). I didn´t blog about my new lifestyle, hanging out even on mondays. I didn´t blog about guys, apartments and wine. I didn´t blog about my new friend, whom I told I wrote a blog, and how he mocked at me quoting "dear blog, today I woke up and had breakfast" - I denied doing that, and I´m aware it´s exactly what I´m doing right now. I didn´t blog about my next observership. I didn´t blog about the Ferguson trial.
I also didn´t mention the american kid I met just a few days ago, which is the only thing of the above I´m gonna write about now (shortly), because meeting him made me reconsider again my position with regard to american vs spanish teenagers. To say it briefly, I generally consider that spanish kids take everything as a joke, while americans take themselves too seriously. Though I must say I have no reason (not an objective one, at least) to think so, because I have never met an american teenager.
Anyways. This guy was 21. His family was originally from Poland but he was from Nashville, Tennessee. He was studying computer sciences, spending his last year in some school in Manchester. We started chatting about nothing and anything, and so we ended up talking about Darren Wilson and racism in the US. And from there we got to Obama and his immigration politics, and from there to international politics. And the way he talked, this kid, got me impressed. He was talking about such high matters, as if the world was his to opine - but his it was indeed, as it is mine, as it was mine when I was a 21 year old stupid who knew nothing about life and spent her weekend nights drinking kalimotxo in a nearby pub waiting for life to cross her way, instead of actually living. So I don´t know which the right way is, but his seems much closer to it than mine. I guess you can never know, and sometimes the most unexpected person can make a remarkable impression on you. And funny thing, he´ll never know. And we´ll never talk to each other again. We just happened to cross our paths for 15 minutes some night in a bar, and then dissappeared forever from eachother´s lives. And all I know about him is that his name (curiously, now that I think about it) is Julian.