The Oslo Chapters
Oslo, man… those two years felt like a movie I never wanted to end. Probably the best years of me life — not because everything was perfect, but because I was me. No pretending, no masks, just raw, unfiltered me.
That’s where I really started living. Made friends for life — the kind who’d stay up late talking nonsense, watch movies back-to-back, and somehow convince me to host movie nights that went till 3 a.m. I learned to cook (and somehow mastered it), hosted dinner parties that got a little too fancy for me student budget, played endless rounds of poker, and discovered what it really means to live alone.
Norway gave me so much — new sports, new experiences, even a few snow falls I didn’t exactly love (I swear I still have a scar from one of those slips). Got in the best shape of me life, travelled across places I’d only seen on screens, clicked a ton of photos, fell in love, almost made a movie (and I mean literally came this close), and even worked on building a startup from scratch. Somewhere in between all that, I also picked up exactly two Norwegian words — so yeah, clearly thriving.
By the time it all ended, I missed home more than I expected. But those two years? They shaped me. It was a wild, beautiful, cinematic blur — the kind of phase you wish you could rewind just to feel it all over again.
There’s a lot more to tell — stories that still make me laugh, some that hurt a bit, and a few I’ll never forget. But we’ll take it slow, fam. One story at a time.
For now, consider this a little sneak peek into that dream chapter — Norway.
