It's coming up to that time of year....

So

Carnival is in the air once more, and even though I no longer live in Trindad, I can feel it all the way over here. I signed up for my costume two weeks ago but the excitement began well before that.

Carnival is something alien to most non-Trinis. My husband isn't Trinidadian and he just does not 'get' Carnival. He doesn't understand why I want to put on, what is basically a bathing suit, and run around town behind some lorries with a cup of vodka in my hands. He would prefer to sit on the beach with a bottle of Stag and a bake and shark. Sigh!

But I am just overflowing with emotion right now. I'm looking at different options for my boots, and let me tell you, just looking at pictures has me trembling with anticipation. People at work must think I'm crazy because I'm sitting here clapping my hands and grinning like I just won the lottery.

They don't get that it takes a massive amount of co-ordination between friends, months in advance, to work out who's playing in what section (the band was decided years ago!). The don't get that registration is serious business and that you have to be quick on the draw or you'll lose out. They don't get that accessorising is almost as important as the costume you'll be wearing. So the fact that I'm basically jizzing my pants because I think I've found someone who can make me a pair of fab boots, is totally lost on them. Sigh!

It'll all be worth it in the end though. This evening, I'm going to go home and trace the outline of my feet on a bit of cardboard and send it home to my sister. These are the things we do for Carnival.

Version 2.0

Well

I'm taking a second stab at this. I had a blog once. A long, long time ago. Before I lived in Crewe, before I worked in Manchester, before I got married. I found it oh, so therapeutic. But also oh, so time consuming. And true to form, my short attention span won out in the end and I sort of gave up.

So here I am trying again. The odd thing is, my life isn't so terrible these days so I don't really have any inspiration. But what I do have is boredom. A lot of it. So I might as well try to sate it enforcing my views upon the world.

I decided to name this blog Life in a Northern Town because I live in a Northern town, somewhat against my will, and it's the name of a very catchy 80s song. I live here against my will because my husband owns a flat here. Funny thing though, he's hardly ever lived here since he bought it. And now he gets to live in fabulous Munich, and I'm stuck in the land o' the Chavs. But he'll be home soon...and will be able to share in my misery.

This is the second northern town I've lived in since I came to England in 1999. I went to uni in Preston and spent three years there after I graduated. Preston's not the greatest place on earth, but it was my first home in England and it will always hold a special place in my heart. And in any case, compared to Crewe, it's bloody Paris!

So I live here and have to deal with it as best I can. Here's to life in my northern town!