» Columnist Idol!
L7 is searching for a new local voice – and it’s providing a fascinating opportunity to find out what’s on your minds. Over the next few weeks we’ll be printing some of the submissions. First out of the post bag this week…
Andrea Fox, 24, Brighton
Six happy years in Brighton and eight homes. Each move consisting of both packing up then unpacking my belongings. By my math that means I’ve moved my belongings in and out of a van 16 times. Parents, friends, friends of friends and van drivers have helped me move from pillar to pier. I have lived in most areas of our city. Studenty Lewes Road. Middle class Seven Dials. Vertically challenging Hanover. Lord knows how you would go about my credit history check.
I actually detest moving with every pulled muscle in my body. What is the correct way to pick up a box of DVDs? Every time I swear on my life, and all the flat-packed boxes under the stairs, that my roots are officially put down! Estate agents won’t thank me for saying this but there’s a lot to be said for staying put. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
I moved to a sixth floor flat in a building with no lift. I’ve tried to move to Hanover on Hanover Day, you know, when the roads are closed. The recent move, to a flat on the seafront, happened during the Labour party conference, when our removal van accidentally scrapped one of Gordon Brown’s official cars.
I implore you, stay put! Place too small? Knock a wall through. No windows? Get some exciting curtains and put them up anyway, people will think you’re eccentric. Rubbish view? There must be a strike on, put up with it. I bet you’re thinking, if I hate it so much, why not stay in one place? I think with each move I feel that I am somehow bettering myself. Nicer surroundings equal nicer life. Importantly, more grown-up life!
Picking a new pad and moving without my parents’ help, financial or otherwise, makes me feel like an adult. Especially when I manage it without crying when I realise I’ve forgotten to pack my pant and sock draw. But ‘nicer’ life? Some of the coldest, messiest, noisiest places I’ve lived have been the ones with the best memories.
I guess the moves have taught me home isn’t walls but peace of mind. So I’m off to eat treacle pudding and listen to Billy Joel with my housemate who has her nose in Jilly Cooper. If I ever fancy a change I’ll swap houses with someone for a week.
