Tonight is my last night in West Hampstead...OK, OK, Kilburn...Whatever you want to call it, I've lived here for nearly three years and from someone that usually moves every year that's a big deal. That's why, although I'm excited to move, it's also quite hard. I've grown to love it here. I can be on Bond Street in twenty minutes, sat at my desk in the office in the same period of time, it's convenient and well... "nice". Yummy Mummy Hampstead and the parks are a relatively short distance away, the night bus drops me off almost straight outside my flat and if I roll out my bed I'm practically in the Sainsburys over the road. It's become very comfortable.
Why am I moving?...Thank you for asking. Well there's two reasons really. Firstly I think I've out grown my flat...with risk of sounding like a snob, bugger it I don't care, I feel a little student like here and I want a nice new place where the knob doesn't fall off the drawer when the washing machine decides it's going to take off across the kitchen. Secondly, I'm moving in with my mate Rich who needs a flatmate for the next three months whilst our friend Laura goes away on a trek around the world. I'm moving to Stratford area, well Pudding Mill Lane or it might be Mile End...I don't really know what the area is called to be honest, anyway it's got a balcony and a lift which by my standards cries young gay, professional sufficiently enough.
I'm sat here on my bedroom floor where my bed used to be with my belongings packed up around me. I hate packing for trips and tend to do it either a) drunk, b) at the very last minute or c) both. This time I've been very organised, booked the day off work and called in some help. My Mum and Sister have just left (thanks again if you're reading) and my Dad and boyfriend are on their way round to help me with the dismantling of the big stuff.
"Operation Move Princess" commences tomorrow morning at 0900 hours when we collect the street van. Don't ask about the mission name...my mates (and now family) have called me Princess since a certain run in with a certain camp doorman at a certain gay bar in Devon. Unfortunately it's stuck.
First trip tomorrow morning is to drive to my boyfriend, Tim's flat in Crawley to drop off my larger bits of furniture that I'm not taking to Stratford / Pudding Mill....let's just call it East London. After that its back here to load up my boxed life and whizz it over to East London, then back over to West Hampstead to drop the van off...where I will do my "Mission Complete" dance. Well not quite complete, I have to come back to this flat to clean it on Sunday. I bet you can imagine just how thrilled I am to do that! In fact I'm willing to pay someone to do it for me. Why didn't I think of this before?
As the last few hours tick by...I want to say Kilburn it's been fun but we must part company for a while. I promise to visit regularly, if only to visit the Milkshake bar up the road which only just gave me a loyalty card this week or to the Starbucks where I visited every weekend, I don't think there's one near me in the new place...there's a McDonalds though...that's just as nice right?! *sobs*. Only joking...bring on the new chapter, me in the East London hood! Booyakasha!
- Posted (with love) from my gorgeous iPad.
