An ode to Harold Street

So that's it then.  Another chapter closed in the book of Anna.

As I say goodbye to Leeds for the final time today, I don't feel as sad as I thought I would.  I didn't really spend a lot of time in that house, so I didn't become too attached to the place.  Although I will miss being a 20 second walk away from the Brudenell and 10 minutes from the Fav.  I'll miss the big window in my bedroom.  I'll miss the sound of Heather and Phil shagging on a sunday morning, the girls to the back of me playing Mika at an obscene volume, i'll miss the rotting mattresses and the dead xmas tree in the cellar.  I'll miss Alex and being able to pinch music off his macbook.  I'll miss playing slide guitar and getting fucked on Wild Turkey.  Pitza Cano's, the shop on the corner that opens when it feels like it, the shit veg in the co-op and Burley Park train station.

Harold Street.  I salute you.

They say you don't have a problem, until you start drinking alone

They say you don’t have a problem, until you start sleeping alone.
I technically DON’T sleep alone, I at least share a room with someone every night. Someone that I know, I must add.

Sharing a bed is common practice with fellow band mates. It’s never really awkward as such, just more about knowing your boundaries and not invading the other person’s personal space. Spooning is definitely out of the question, as is feet touching. Sharing a bed with someone that isn’t your partner can be a tricky and often touchy subject. This is a moment when your friendship suddenly takes a drastic step into unknown depths. This is territory only reserved for that special person in your life. But here you are, sharing a Travelodge duvet with your tour manager. All normal sleep etiquette, of which you are used to, is immediately discarded as if it never existed. No longer are you permitted to sleep naked, or sleep solely in the ‘starfish’ position. Sleep, in such circumstances, as much as you wish it didn’t, becomes a battle with space and time. Now, being the polite individual that you are, you feel you should wait for your bed partner to fall asleep first. Taking great care not to cross the imaginary line that divides their side of the bed from yours, you perch ever so elegantly on the edge of the bed, usually in a position that is 10 times less comfortable than you’re normally happy with, as this person is your friend, you don’t mind of course… but do you? Anyway, that way, once they finally hit the hay, you assume all rights of the bed and therefore enabling you to sleep as normal. That is unless you’re feeling particularly selfish. I have also noticed through observation and through actions of my own, that when sleeping in an environment heavily occupied by awake human beings, usually in the day, the motion of sleeping with your face and back to the majority, if not all, present human beings seems to be the most common code of practice. Now I believe that this is definitely down to the fact that you don’t want everyone to see your facial muscles completey relaxed, because let’s face it, no one looks good when they sleep. I for example drool like a dog and I am fully aware of how unattractive this is.

If you love me, won't you let me know.

I wish i liked the ideas that I conjure up in my mind. They all seem so stupid that I never actually try to put them into practice. When in actual fact, they're probably not that stupid.... more just bordering on boring.

I want to bind books.

We're touring again. We played in Sheffield last night. Now we're in Manchester... From one travelodge to the next in one easy step. Leave current Travelodge, get in van, bust out some guitar hero, commence journey, drive for approximately 87minutes, arrive at destination, disembark van, retrieve suitcase and all personal belongings from back of said van, check in to new travelodge, find room, put kettle on.... etc etc. Same shit, different city.

I am aware that it's been a while since I last wrote on this, but I no-one reads it anyway.

Jokes!