There and back again.

If I procrastinated over my university dissertation, that was nothing compared to how much I have been putting off writing this blog post.

My last geordshiregirl blog post.

Yes, ladles and jelly spoons, I have moved back home (therefore, I am no longer a Geordie girl in Yorkshire!) I actually moved back on Valentine's Day following an abrupt departure from my job on Friday 13th, and I've been dithering about this post ever since!

Anyone who knows me, knows that my last few months in Leeds were an uphill struggle. The job move, the house move, lack of sleep, illness and general homesickness all played their part; and eventually, it all just got too much.

So I handed in my notice, went out and got absolutely wasted for one last time with my icelolly family, then packed up and headed North the following day.

If it wasn't for icelolly, I would never have found myself in Yorkshire in the first place! So I guess I owe them a thank you!

Ugly house still has claim on all of my kitchen utensils and a few other bits and bobs, so I will have to venture back at some point, but the last few weeks have just been a blur of job searching, and settling back into Blyth.

The first week was really tough. I couldn't help feeling like a complete failure, crawling back to my parents when the going got tough. But hell, I was only meant to be gone 4 months, and I lasted almost a year. That has to count for something!

In that time, I learned more about myself than I ever thought possible. But most importantly, I learned that family and friends are more important than money and success. Of course, it would be wonderful to have both, but if you have to sacrifice being happy in order to achieve that, then it's probably not worth it in the long run.

Growing up, I always thought I wanted to be like one of those uber-successful business women you see in the movies, strutting down a New York street in their suits and their Louboutins, coffee in one hand and a BlackBerry in the other.

As it turns out, I like beaches, not cities, wellies are more comfortable than stilettos, coffee tastes terrible, and BlackBerry's are shit.

U-turn much?!

So this is the end of my little adventure. For those of you that have followed me from the start, I apologise! I have probably demented you as much as I demented myself!

The blog has served its purpose though. And I'm sure I'll look back on this down the line and laugh.

I don't regret a thing about going. It's just wonderful to be home at last. 

L x

Murder, she wrote.

Many people may mock my hometown of Blyth. It once was named the drugs capital of the UK and it has won the prestigious accolade of "worst town in Northumberland" many times over (God knows how with Ashington next door!) but even so, Blyth is starting to look tame compared to Leeds.

In previous posts, I have alluded to Headingley as studentville, which it is. I have also made no secret of the fact that I have some nightmare next door neighbours, on both sides.

But what makes ugly house even more desirable as a place to call home, (please note the intended sarcasm) is the street in which it resides.

Good old Richmond Mount.

Richmond Mount makes Coronation Street look like a serene suburb in Pleasantville.

So far we have had wild house parties til 5am on a Monday, students playing football in the back street at 3am, domestics, door slamming, students weeing against our front wall, a screaming fit in the small hours which resulted in a visit from the police, a burglary, and now, a drugs bust.

Not just a few little suspicious pot plants kind of drugs bust either, like a full on Pineapple Express style operation lock down that Seth Rogan would have been proud of.

On our daily wanders to the bus stop, ugmate Kate and I had noticed the distinct smell of weed in the air as we passed the house on the corner of the street, but living in studentville, we never thought anything of it.

Yesterday when I came in from work, there were police vans and men in white boiler suits everywhere, wandering in and out of said house on the corner.

I genuinely thought there must have been a murder.

But then today, ugmate Kate sent me this...

So now we know what's really gone down!

Twitter is such a reliable source of information.

The funny thing is, I'm not shocked or bothered. The drama that seems to happen nightly in this street is becoming a source of entertainment in my sad little full-time working life.

Also, anywhere that makes Blyth look better, is fine by me!

#thuglife

L x

Crow's Feet.

I've had one of those funny little days today where a number of things have made me very conscious of getting older.

Obviously, I'm getting older all of the time. I'm getting older as I'm typing this... But even so.

It all started this morning on the wander to the bus stop with ugmate Kate. 

"Did you hear about Deirdre Barlow dying?"

"Eeeeh God yeah, she was only 60 as well, it's no age."

At which point Kate started mocking me for my retro turn of phrase, it's no age. I reasoned that if Deirdre had have been older, the news would be just as sad, just slightly less shocking.

60 is no age. My Dad turns 55 on Friday, that's getting close to 60, and my Dad is probably cooler than me.

Scratch that, he's definitely cooler than me!

It's funny that while I accept that I'm getting older (yet no wiser), I HATE the thought that my parents are ageing with me.

Them getting older is just somehow more monumental, even though I rarely remember how old they are anyway.

My next landmark birthday will be 25... And then 30... Which is where mine and Kate's bus stop conversation turned next, hitting the big 3-0.

In my head as a teenager, 30 was years away, 30 year olds were ancient, past it, over the hill. 

I also thought that by age 30, I would be settled down with a house and a decent job, maybe even a family.

Now that hill is on the horizon, I'm thinking very differently.

I might not be near enough to start climbing it yet, but it's there, and it will come around quicker than I think.

My next wake up call arrived whilst sat watching TV this evening. The film 500 Days of Summer came on, and Kate said: "Don't they look young!?" watching that bit where Joseph Gordon Levitt and Zooey Dechanel are getting all cosy in the car.

That film was made in 2009... That doesn't even seem that long ago. I was 17 in 2009 with the world at my feet, now I'm worrying about crows feet.

This is madness right?!

I'm still a 5 year old on the inside. It's currently snowing in Leeds and I'm praying work gets cancelled tomorrow so I can go and build a snowman on Woodhouse Moor.

Fingers crossed the buses go on strike!

L x

The House Project.

I'm officially into my fourth week as a resident of the ugly house. 

In addition to my original ugmates (yes, we're coining that!) Kate and Josh, we now have a fourth ugmate Laura who has become my next door neighbour, so I no longer have a floor to myself, which is kinda nice!

It's taking a bit of time, but I feel like I might be starting to settle in. The only thing that is REALLY going to make me start calling ugly house "home" is finally sorting out my room.

BANG.

It's really something isn't it?

It's too blue to be true (if you can pardon the terrible pun). Who the hell thought THAT was a good colour for a bedroom wall!?

In all honesty, I got off lightly in comparison to some of the other rooms in the house. We have a room which is green and orange, and another which is dark purple with a dark green tiled fireplace, now commonly known amongst the ugmates as "The Joker's" room where the WiFi lives.

Are you starting to picture the grand scale of the ugliness of ugly house?

It really is a beaut.

The wall isn't exactly giving me sleepless nights like the students next door, but the whole room could do with a little TLC to help it feel like mine.

So I've been shopping!

Now I'm no DIY queen, and I'm more at home in stilettos than up a step ladder, but I'm gonna give this a whirl.

My mission is to paint one wall a night this week, starting with just plain white to cover the blue then adding the colour. Apparently that's how the pros do it!

I'll make an interior design guru out of me yet! I may just need all the luck in the world not to fall on my face in my tray of emulsion...

Project de-blue is a go-go!

L x

The year in numbers.

The year in numbers.

33 blog posts

3 blogger recognition awards

4 jobs

2 house moves

2 holidays

2 cities

2 cars

1 relationship

Too many cocktails

3940 blog views...

It's been a whirlwind year.

When I started writing this thing as a means of keeping myself sane back in March, I never dreamed I would still be writing it now.

The response and feedback I have had from friends and readers has been absolutely crazy so thank you for sticking with me!

I will be spending the remainder of 2014 drunk, and then extremely hungover on the road back to Leeds, so I just wanted to say, here's to an awesome 2015 everyone.

And if anyone has the misfortune to spot me on the A1 South on Thursday, please keep your distance. 

Hangovers and road rage don't mix!

L x

And the bells were ringing out...

Whenever I come home to the parents house at weekends, I tend to see less of them than I do during the week when I'm 110 miles away where all we have to communicate by is FaceTime.

When you're on such a limited time frame, it's hard to get to spend any kind of quality time with anyone because there is always a hundred things to do.

So I feel very blessed that I have a whole week off over the Christmas period to spend some actual time with my nearest and dearest, rather than feel like I'm rushing to see everyone I have to see before I head back South.

Today has been amazing. I don't think anything can beat a proper family Christmas.

After a traditional boozy Christmas Eve in the home town, celebrations this morning started late with a rather fuzzy head.

It was nothing that Christmas dinner couldn't solve though, and Prosecco, and cake... And some chocolates and then some more cake...

Basically I'm in a Christmas food coma.

Twice today I have physically had to lie down on the floor, and I even had to take a nap in the middle of the day.

Hangover or no hangover, I think I may be starting to feel my age!

So here I am, tucked up in bed in my fluffy panda pyjamas, happy as a clam because I got to watch the Downton Abbey Christmas special (yes, I am that tragic) and all there is really left to say is, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I hope Santa was good to each and every one of you!

L x

The sleepy monster.

I feel like I should probably start this post with an apology for the tirade i subjected your poor eyes to last week... If any of you hadn't already guessed, I pretty much turn into an overemotional monster when I'm sleep deprived.

The neighbours house party last Thursday finally shut itself down at 4.10am with no help from me. I paced the floors a bit and tried ringing 101 twice but never got through.

Oh West Yorkshire police...

So as you can probably imagine, Friday was a complete write off. After feeling like I was coming down with Ebola during the week anyway, the lack of sleep really kicked the s**t out of me and I ended up crying at my desk within the first half hour of getting to work.

Just keeping it classy you know!

"Go home to bed Leanne" my boss said... Despite not wanting to pass on my germies, I hugged her and did exactly that.

Unfortunately my germies are real germies and I've since been completely floored by a chest infection, so there's not much to report from the weekend gone apart from I've done a LOT of catch-up sleeping from the comfort of home.

I have managed to drag myself back to Loiner-land to get through my final day of work before the Christmas holidays and I'll be driving back up to the frozen North tomorrow.

As it's already 4.30am and I'm writing this from my bed in ugly house where once again I'm wide awake, I'm going to be sleep deprived and emotional again... 

Drivers beware! 

Ultimate road rage coming to a motorway near you.

L x