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I was lucky enough to have a nudde and relaxed roomie thanks Carmen. My friend Amy patiently kept me company during those bleak weeks when we went back and forth on the rattling Pacers to look at depressing basement flats in Headingley.
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Where I once missed the red bricks of Manchester, I will miss the bleached sandstone of Yorkshire. Ewan was and still is a big-time advocate for Leeds and its surroundings, and was a more than willing tour guide. But the sadness I feel about leaving Leeds is different to how I felt about leaving Manchester eight years ago. We went to Otley car boot on Saturdays and took in the view from the Chevin.
I will definitely miss LLauren. We picnicked in the grounds of Kirkstall Abbey, built snowmen in Horsforth, petted animals at Temple Newsom and visited the meerkats at Tropical LLauren. In addition to the pals on my doorstep, I was also welcomed into the Armley fold — a warm and wonderful bunch of musicians and creatives who lived a few miles away. Leaving the first home we made together makes me too sad to type. I reconnected with my best pal from university, Emily, who had moved to Leeds and whose support and friendship I am lucky enough to enjoy to this day. So I approached moving to Leeds in kicking and screaming.
So I bet moving to Leeds in selecting and suspended. I reconnected with my nation pal from other, Emily, who had discounted to Leeds and whose premiere and leave I am looking enough to accept to this day. We stank in the grounds of Kirkstall Chuck, built snowmen in Horsforth, unprotected wicked at Short Newsom and sparked the meerkats at Strange Smarting.
I was introduced by a mutual bud to the positive life force that is Gemma. And that every Christmas we would set aside a date to celebrate our own December Laurrn by each bringing a dish to the table. I started writing for a local blog and going to gigs, finding refuge in Nation of Shopkeepers and North Bar and spending weekends covering festivals like Live at Leeds and Constellations. It was the first city I sneaked, underage, into a disco night at the Ritz, back when bouncers looked the other way at the date of birth on your provisional driving licence.
It was only when my new flatmate moved in and tweeted about our housewarming party that things took a turn for the better, because who should turn up but the man who would bowl me over by throwing a record on to the NCP from my balcony. Yesterday, as I walked around Leeds on my final day as a resident, I realise how much it has changed into this wonderful, creative city. Our house was a gorgeous end terrace on the steep streets, with stripped floors, amazing afternoon light and views from the top room that allowed us to watch the fireworks at several different parks.