the prettiest star

Laugh now, but one day we'll be in charge.

Tuesday, May 31

Bye bye Leeds.


So it seems today is the day I leave my city flat for the house in the middle of nowhere. You can expect posts about the inane boredom that comes from living in the countryside, about the shit weather, about the pollen, and of course, the familia. My mother, whose idea of cooking is to fry the entire contents of the fridge and cover it in cheese. And her insane boyfriend and my brother.

No longer will be the tales of drunken clubbing, shopping, pulling, and evil flatmates. Instead I shall thrill you with my stories of sober nights in the pub because I have to drive everywhere, ex boyfriend sightings, and the horror of sharing a bathroom with my younger brother, whose idea of hygiene is questionable. Shopping will become a trip, not a daily habit. And I have to travel 30 minutes by car, 5 minutes by tram, and 5 minutes by foot should I wish to be in a city.

And I will be all alone. Ali has gone to Scotland- wtf?! it gets hot so she goes to the coldest, most miserable part of the UK!?- to do voluntary work. She tells me she's really enjoying not wearing make up and 'being at one with the land'. It would take an apocolypse for me to leave my room without make up and the only time I ever want to feel 'at one with the land' is when I'm dead. Stacey is going to Ibiza- lucky bitch- all bloody summer. Jackie has her boyfriend, and he just happens to be the sibling of the twat James, so I may stay away from that one.

And of course, my pulling partner Rach went and got herself a bloody boyfriend and I haven't heard much from he since. So that leaves either my guy friends. And they pose problem. If I bring them round to the house, my Mum categorizes them- gay or fancies me- and that's it. And god forbid that anyone in the 'fancies me' category comes nto my bedroom. Then all I get is 'everything alright in there' or 'do you want a cup of tea' or 'it's 6pm (!), and getting late!' every 5 minutes.

Other people's parents don't do this. They understand that having lived away from home for the best part of year, that maybe, just maybe, it's time to let go and not ask 'where are you going?' all the time. Of course, I understand that it is not my house, but I don't come in drunk late at night, I don't eat all the food or hog the tv. And everytime I say 'Surely Mother, it is time for me to go about my business without having to answer 20 questions about my every move? It's not like I live a rebellious lifestyle? I'm 19!', she replies 'I know how old you are, I gave birth to you, just be grateful we don't live in Venezuela'.

Oh yes, Venezuela. Recently came in the bottom 10 states for gender equality. Lovely country, where, at the age of 18 I was not permitted to walk down the street on my own, stay out after 9pm, look at a man, talk to a man, or smile at strangers. Why? 'Because you are a woman'. Never mind that I live alone in the city with the highest amount of crime in england.

And I really hope she doesn't try and tempt me onto a family holiday. If it's not to land-where-I-may-as-well-be-nine-Venezuela, it'll be to some place where I have to deal with her and her boyf 24/7 and someone will get hurt. And it would be somewhere obscure, just to make sure I can't go clubbing, or shopping, or make friends.

I just don't want to move away from Leeds. Nature doesn't do it for me. I am a city person, the crime doesn't bother me. And there are less bees. If it wasn't for my car, I don't know what I would do to escape.