Thursday, May 25, 2006

Hay while the sun shines*

Most of the time, I’m living proof that money doesn’t bring happiness (sorry about the chiche overload there). I have way less money than everyone I know (even, these days, my pothead layabout sister), yet I’m much happier than most of them.

You just don’t need a huge amount of money. So long as you can eat, pay the rent and go out on the lash every now and again, everything else is a bonus. Sure, there are some things I’d like (an i-pod, some new clothes, a holiday that doesn’t involve sleeping in a dormitory), but there’s nothing that money can buy that I really desperately crave.



I’d like my own place.

Not to buy, obviously. Property being so ludicrously expensive I’m as likely to be able to afford a country fucking manor as a shitty, cramped one-bed flat in a not-very-glam part of town.

But to rent my own place, god, how I dream of it.

I’ve been living in house-shares since I left school. Mainly, it’s been great - I’ve made so many fantastic friends over
the years, and my current fellow-spinster flatmate is the best ever. Plus at the minute there are only two of us most of the time; we have the run of a lovely big 4-bed house with a garden and everything.

I just want some space.

I want to have more than one cupboard for my food and one shelf in the fridge. I want the dishes always to be done properly, and not to have to look at burger grease in the washing up bowl. I never want to see my male flatmate’s girlfriend and her skanky, stinking fucking dog again.

Most of all, I want some peace and quiet.

You see, when you share a house, the TV is always on. It’s a constant onslaught of Emmerdale and Eastenders and The Bill and Holby Fucking City, god, it makes me want to cry. I am thirty-one years old and I do not want to ever have to watch Eastenders again.

Anyhow. Shut up and quit moaning woman.

Right then, I’m off to Hay. Back next week.

* Actually, it's going to piss it down. Bollocks.


  • You're a better man than I, Gunga Spinster. I lived in a houseshare once. ONCE. In fact my daughter was born there. Lord, how I hated it. Other peoples hair in the bathtub? Other peoples wierd medicine in the cabinet? geeeeeeeegh. Ones own nest is vital.
    The Hay Festival looks SO COOL!

    By Blogger First Nations, at 5:16 PM  

  • It's fucking horrible isn't it? I'm 32, I have a proper grown up job and a nicely above average salary, but can I afford to even rent my own place? Can I fuck.

    The choice is: sharing with people, or paying £700+ for a fucking studio flat. Joy.

    By Blogger LC, at 8:29 PM  

  • I've bit the bullet and rent my own flat and it is worth the money! Oh god, it so is worth it. Though this month I had an overdraft for the first time since college. Boo. It's still worth it. Delicious peace and quiet.

    By Blogger belladona, at 8:35 PM  

  • i have lived in some of the most mingingest house-shares ever. i might blog abou....oh, fuck.

    sod that. i'm going to start again. see you at the weekend.

    By Blogger surly girl, at 8:49 PM  

  • oh, and hay on wye?


    By Blogger surly girl, at 8:49 PM  

  • Oh I feel your pain. I want my own place so very badly...

    By Blogger james henry, at 10:09 PM  

  • I sometimes pine for my old flat. It had no heating and had live Victorian gas taps but it was great. Now I'm a bloody house-owner working mother type. Some days I'd do a swap big time. Hay on Wye - me jealous too.

    By Blogger rockmother, at 11:59 PM  

  • I suppose the best moment I have had living by myself was when I realised that big brother was back on and I didn’t have to watch a single fucking second of it.

    Although on the other hand I had no one to share finding 3 policemen going through my bins as I got home from work last night.

    So swings and roundabouts...

    By Blogger hen, at 12:08 AM  

  • That's the book Festival right? *v. jealous* I share a house with four others and occaisonally a cat. For sixteen years. So :p
    Have a great time!

    By Blogger No Shit Sherlock, at 6:02 AM  

  • Hay is very cool! More book shops than you can shake a, erm, book at and that's off season. When the festival's there it all get a bit crazy. In a very polite, book-reading way of course.

    By Blogger Billy, at 8:16 AM  

  • i miss the flat we shared more than i miss my ex...it was one of the best things about being coupled up - we could afford to rent a 1 bed flat. moving back into house shares after 5 years of peace and quiet was a shock I still haven't got over!

    By Blogger Kirses, at 8:56 AM  

  • I share a house (I'm a lodger) and discovered my landlord and I were so well suited (neither of us can sit through Eastenders, The Bill or other such dribblesome TV programmes - in fact, we're getting rid of the telly)and we have similar tastes in food but can cook different things, we have the same sense of clean (it's hell when one can't seem to SEE the encrusted food on plates) and we found each other so well suited that I um, sort of ended up sleeping in the Landlord's room rather than mine (only after over a year of fancying the pants off each other but being too 'sensible' to make it known -bah!) but I do remember spending a lot of time when looking for a flatshare just really measuring up the flatmate rather than the flat (in Brighton, all I could afford was shithole, shithole with space for a bike, shithole with shitty kitchen, shithole with grimey shithole - so I thought I might as well share a shithole with a decent person)

    By Anonymous undercovercookie, at 9:52 AM  

  • We applied for a mortgage recently - Ma Swipe and I are reasonably well remunerated £40,000 plus graduate types, vaguely trustworthy with no sprogs and a second income generated by the missus' immoral earnings (she's a ticket tout...)We went to our local branch of the Nationwide where we were dealt with by a barely literate Asylum seeker who kept getting her figures wrong and typed up the mortgage application (a legally binding contract, as it goes) completely in lower case. She said that on that basis (and providing we were willing to stump up a grand up front on the vague premise that they might deign to give us a mortgage if they felt like it) they would be prepared to lend us 173,000 notes. Price of a one bedroom flat where we live? 250,000 squids. (Fortunately we have a £200,000 deposit.)

    The question is - how do first time buyers and chavs who don't have a quarter of a million sitting in a high interest account manage? They'll be expecting us to do our own housework next!

    Love on ya,


    By Blogger Robert A. Swipe, at 9:56 AM  

  • Nationwide? What Sue lawley, Frank Bough and Michael Barrett? They do mortgages now?

    By Blogger rockmother, at 11:06 AM  

  • robert - now that's just bizarre, cos I earn in no way as much as you do, neither does my other half, and yet a bank told me yesterday they would spot me £178,000 quid - on 100 % mortgage.
    Not that I'm actually buying anywhere, but still.

    By Blogger frangelita, at 2:20 PM  

  • I can relate. I hate other people's noise and stuff and just crave alone time. Thankfully I get it or I'd be a raving lunatic.

    By Blogger Kyahgirl, at 6:45 PM  

  • I'm so picky I don't think I'd make a great roommate. I'd be the neat freak that drove everyone else crazy.

    By Anonymous Grins, at 1:19 AM  

  • Frangelita - sorry, I didn't make that clear: the 40,00 figure is our COMBINED income (including the undeclared smut-generated and immoral earnings etc...)

    Fortunately, we have no intention of buying a property either - we were just hoping to do the old " shove a quarter of a million sobs worth of Columbia's finest up you hooter and go out in a blaze of glory before anyone realises you've pre-ordered the new Paul Simon CD on Amazon" scam. But I can't imagine how hard it must be for young couples just starting out to finance such a straightforward suicide pact on their incomes.

    Good old Gordon!

    Love on y'all,


    By Blogger Robert A. Swipe, at 8:01 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home