Happy New Year
So we’ve had a bit of radio silence over the holidays, pondering what comes next (and there was an abortive house move in there, too,… Read More »Happy New Year
So we’ve had a bit of radio silence over the holidays, pondering what comes next (and there was an abortive house move in there, too,… Read More »Happy New Year
One of the things demanding an amount of my time recently has been trying to move. This activity has actually become an enduring theme in my life in recent years—and I still haven’t managed it. I don’t live in Birmingham per se. I live in a small town about 15 miles North. I’ve spent a large chunk of my life in this town variously. I’ve escaped a couple of times and somehow been sucked back in. As much as I hate this place (the small town), I’m sure it’s at least a bit unfair to aim that hatred at Birmingham as such.
I’ve even been looking for a place in Brum. But I have a few technical hurdles, let’s say, and being a dog owner happens to be one of them. Poor old Fred.
I’m not posting this from my blog interface, but rather, hand-coding it. Blog software’s been a bit knackered for the last month (it’ll hopefully be fixed soon), so I’ve been unable to post. [Note: Of course, this has since been reposted using the new blog interface!]
Well, you know, weird turn of events. After the last move, to Ilford… I found myself without an Internet connection for two months, almost. And the new home had cockroaches. This was an unbeatable combination, quite honestly. I finally decided I had to give up on the Down South Experiment, so, would you believe… I write this five weeks after my fifth move in a 14-month period, back where I began, my old home-town (actually, the same street as before to boot!).
I don’t see this as permanent, but for now, just a bit of stability seems like a good idea. Apart from the trauma of moving five times, anyhoo. My sleeping patterns are shot to hell, worse than they’ve ever been and very nearly upside-down. But, the upsides: I have Wifi, there are no cockroaches, a large living-room into which all my junk fits nicely… and today, a new washing machine arrived, which was nice. (No, really. I am allergic to hand-washing.)
Read More »Sort-Of Update
Or another moving day, even, as it’s later today that I move… for the fecking fourth time in the space of a year…
But, yeah, I did find somewhere dog-friendly, and my escape from Ye Landlord from Hell is finally happening. I’ll get this moving thing right one of these days.
I’m off to Ilford, which is in Essex, in case you wondered.
Read More »Another Day
So I am looking around for a new place. Went to see my friend Michael in Camden today and browse what was on offer there. No much of any use, as it happens, but we had a nice meal anyway!
I am (fingers crossed) viewing a place on Wednesday night in the Brockley/Lewisham area. Prolly not as funky as Fulham, but close to the city (only about 20 mins from Charing Cross), and it’s obviously the living situation itself that is most important. This one sounds a lot better, but I don’t wanna say too much for now.
I’ve been in a sort-of relationship for some months with someone now, and last night he suggested making it official. He was a little drunk so I said, ‘Hey, maybe tomorrow you’ll not say this.’ But no change so far! I guess that means it is official. It’s a nice feeling. The situation started to develop just before leaving London for my disastrous spell in Brighton, which did compound the error big-time. As much as it turns out that the current living situation sucks, I’m glad to be back in London.
Read More »Developments
Hmmm. I’m almost too embarrassed to say this. I believe I will be moving AGAIN shortly.
I’m not gonna gripe excessively. Actually, it’s good to be back in London. Pretty fucking great, mostly. Social life’s not doing too bad; I think, in 25+ days here, I’ve only spent about four or five days/nights in with no socialising. Even the sex life’s got some moderate activity. So that’s all A-OK.
But my seemingly reasonable landlord misled me a bit, about how often he’d be here, and as this is only a one-bedroom flat and the kitchen adjoins the living room (which he uses as a bedroom), a full-time share just doesn’t work. It’s untenable. I took it on the basis that he was only here occasionally. For the first three weeks he was here practically all the damn time, shutting the living room door at 11pm most nights, spending numerous afternoons watching TV very LOUDLY with his mates while spliffing up, etc. Regular Boys’ Club shit. All the stuff his fiancee in North London won’t let him do, presumably…
Read More »Funny Thing Happened…
I’m moving tomorrow. To Fulham.
It’s been an interesting past month or so. I got a cold which didn’t go away and it became apparent it was glandular fever. I’m still not 100%—the weakness and lethargy can last a couple of months—but I’m not too bad. (Having said that, I do feel a bit rough at the moment, but I hope it’s just the fact that I got a bit drunk last night, against medical advice…)
It is really, REALLY unpleasant to be actually quite ill in a town where you don’t really know anyone. I’d have really appreciated someone being able to do a bit of shopping for me, or walk the dog once or twice, just to allow me a couple or three days of complete rest. But it wasn’t possible here in Brighton. I had to drag myself out at least once a day to walk the dog and get food. It was, on the whole, a hellish period for me.
Read More »Now It Can Be Told
As in my hair…
Of course, being self-administered (about half an hour ago), it may not last very long. Be interesting to see. The docile expression is an optional extra. 😉
Read More »Being Red
Hmmm… haven’t felt much like writing on here for a while. Real life gets in the way sometimes, have had a really, really weird three weeks, sometimes very depressed and generally disorientated.
Well, the move to Brighton happened. And about five seconds after, I realised it was a total, fucking mistake. You can’t begin to imagine what an amazing mind-fuck that is. This is what happens if you’re stuck in a too-expensive place on your own—you don’t think things through properly.
How can I detail my problems with Brighton? *sigh* Let’s try a bulleted list…
* I actually have friends in London.
* I miss them.
* It’s not as quick/easy to get to London as I deluded myself.
* It’s even harder to get to anywhere else in the country. Travel from here is just a total pisser.
* I got shit on by a bird for the first time since I was about seven years old within a couple of days of coming here.
* The coastal winds are utterly vicious, especially at night.
* And the nights are cooooooooold.
* Spiders and woodlice and bugs generally… lots of them. Everywhere.
* Nothing resembling a ‘proper’ city locally.
* Most of the buildings are ancient and in a shockingly awful state of decay. Even the really expensive ones. Double-glazing hasn’t been invented here yet.
* Living in an ancient, conversion-job building with a shared entrance and paper-thin walls really sucks. I don’t want to know when someone in the floor above farts, but I pretty much do.
* This Hobbit-hole won’t even allow a single divan through its doors. I still have neither a proper sofa to sit on or a bed to sleep on.
* Fresh coastal air, yes, but tons of earthy dirt and grime and dust nonetheless. Everywhere. Poor pooch Fred had a totally black belly within a week of being here.
And on and on and on. Think you get the idea. Brighton’s a beautiful place to visit, but man, living here is another matter entirely.
Read More »A Farce, You Say?
Right, so I went to Brighton yesterday (meaning Wednesday). That’s the moving situation. I’ve decided that, as Brighton is just 40 minutes away from London (the city centre) on the train, the air is a hell of a lot cleaner, and most importantly, you can rent quite nice places for about the same as you can get squalid dumps in most of London… that’s where I’m gonna relocate to.
The irony is that this is where mom and I planned to move to. We were still talking about this a year ago. It was roughly a year ago that mom started to show symptoms that led to a grim diagnosis and the end of her life. That’s been on my mind a fair bit, for obvious reasons, but I’m trying to not let it get me too down.
I do like Brighton, anyway. The seafront’s a major attraction, and as it’s not all that large, you’re never too far away from anything. I have to go into the city from here if, say, I want to browse a large music store… the only local option is a tiny HMV in Wimbledon. Yeah, Wimbledon turned out to be much smaller and less impressive than initial impressions suggested. :-/
Read More »Brighton