Monthly Archives: September 2012

So I moved to Leeds

Standard

…On Sunday.

“Go where the energy is. Go where you feel comfortable, where there is generosity and concern”

I am living in a terraced house, opposite other terraced houses, next door to Irish drunks, surrounded by men that work a trade, and bellow across the street at each other, clad in overalls, their skin flecked with paint and plaster (like my dads). In the mornings, I listen to Rihanna (and wonder who would win in a fight between her and Beyonce) and scrub at 10 years worth of grease that covers everything in our surprisingly beautiful kitchen (Rihanna, in case you were wondering), and imagine the shape of three shows. One where I can see it, one where I know how I want the audience to feel, one where I know how it ends. I think about a bus that used to come to school for TIE shows, and we’d lie on the floor, and the ceiling would light up, as though it were stars outside. It got shitter every year – did I get older, or did it. I think what it would be like to make a show for adults in one of them, and I imagine posh, theatre going people, lying in their good clothes, on the floor of a camper van, and decide this show is a must.

 

I work at a bar with regulars, whose names I know, who know my name, and in a high street coffee chain, where a polish lady sadly bangs my tenth¬†cappuccino¬†down, announces that it’s too wet, and tells me to make another one, reminding me that we heat milk to 140 degrees, and that espresso shots should pour in 15 seconds. Before work, I go to Overeaters anonymous, on Saturday. Anxious.

 

I sleep with my nose less than a metre from the bed, with laptop, bottle of water, lamp, phone and scribbled notes in the bed. I order books on Amazon. Titles: Fat Sex The Naked Truth – Good Girls Do Swallow – The Evolution of Obesity – Fat Boys, A Slim Book – Revolting Bodies? The Struggle to Redefine Fat Identity – Bodies out of Bounds, Fatness and Transgression. I sketch things badly, stomachs that sag, and bingo wings, collapsing muscles, stretch marks that are varicose veins, that are estuaries to the sea.

 

Before I go to bed, I listen to O Superman.