I'm in Any Northern Mill Town, I came yesterday for my mum's birthday. For once I splashed out on train tickets and while I am still a big fan of the Megabus and think more people would like getting the coach if they only gave it a try; getting the train is a lot nicer. It took me no time at all to get to Euston and then, instead of a manic run from Victoria tube station to Victoria coach station, all I had to do was go up the escalators. The train is so quick and comfortable; the train was quiet and everyone had two seats to themselves. I was really excited to be going back to Manchester. Buzzing, you might say.
My mum picked me up from town then we went and got my brother from his student house in Rusholme. It's weird because we grew up round there but it doesn't feel familiar to me anymore. It's a past life that has been completely blotted out by Paris.
We got to Any Northern Mill Town and mum played me her new favourite album- 'Home' by Rudimental- while we got ready to go out for a meal. At the end of every track she asked me: "Would you dance to this in a club?"
She always wants me to show her my 'club dancing' but outside of a club my 'club dancing' looks like somebody waiting at the bus stop trying to keep warm, stepping from side to side and rubbing their hands together.
Mum played me her new favourite song which I thought was Martha Tilston, a folk singer with a distinctively high, sweet little voice but it was Sophie Ellis-Bextor! (Remember her?) We danced around the kitchen to it, twirling in circles. I really like it. Although the video is shit:
I had some good news to tell mum, although I shouldn't really be telling anyone in case it all goes to shit and I look stupid...
But I am really excited, so I really hope it works out. This week I'm starting a PAID copywriting internship which could last for three months. This week is just a trial, so I don't want to get my hopes up.
I am VERY excited though!
Have you seen The Musketeers? It's like it's been written by a gang of 1950s school girls and their bored, undersexed mothers, in the best way possible. Think attractive men with swords, pressing women against the ground and breathing down their neck to save them from gunfire; and Freddie from Skins marching up to you and whispering: "You have to pretend we're lovers, it's a matter of life or death." before grabbing you and kissing you.
I wonder if BBC One secretly surveyed ladies up and down the country?
"What's your raciest romantic fantasy and would you mind if we dramatised it and broadcast it every Sunday night after the watershed?"
BE MY GUEST, BBC ONE!
This reminds me of when we asked Kayt what her romantic fantasy would be and she said meeting a French footballer and taking him to Nando's in Newcastle. Not sure we'll be seeing that on the telly anytime soon...