Don't get me wrong, Leeds isn't quite New York (not that I've ever been) but it was just the injection of city buzz and multiculturalism I so desperately craved; worlds away from Preston's parched peas and Baluga bar. Moving here, was the first time I've moved out of my childhood home since University. Huddersfield was magic of course; I did a lot of growing up there and made some of my dearest friends... but uni life and a student loan is not quite the same as adulting, is it.
I remember when I was told I'd be moving to Yorkshire's biggest city. I felt a tinge of guilt, almost a traitor to my red rose roots - but excited too. I'd at last be able to fly the nest - albeit a little later than a lot of my friends. With just a month or two to find a place, you could say I was a little stressed, but I'd seen my friend's success using spareroom.co.uk a few years earlier so I knew it could definitely be done.
Now, I've never used a dating app before but I can only imagine using one is exactly the same as spareroom, only without the unsolicited dick pics - thank fuck. Curating a profile is a lot like curating your online persona - How do I want to be perceived? I started with the headline: 'Young professional seeks similar female/(s)'. I'll be honest it makes me want to vom even now. It reminds me of an old newspaper advert - the kind they had in the 90's when in search of a date or the third party to a middle-aged threesome. It did the job though, and thankfully was similar to other headlines I scrolled through. I eventually picked photographs that I felt were an accurate representation of who I am (or how I want to be seen); a selfie, face-tuned to fuck but because obviously people need to know what I look like; a group snap with the gals, because this is my vibe on a night out - look I can scrub up alright! I won't be the ugly one you're embarrassed to take with you; a cheesy snap up a volcano in Bali, because I'm adventurous and fun and oh look I've been travelling; and a close up with my bestie at a day dinner party; because my social life is not always quite as glam as that gals pic and you need to know that. Chuffed with my selection I started to think about what I wanted from my buddy up.
'Buddy Up': spareroom lingo for 'I don't like any places on offer so I'm hoping someone else feels the same way who is remotely similar to me and we can keep our standards high together'.
Total Budget: Not too expensive because realistically I make no money but also I don't want to look cheap either
Minimum Term: Not too long because what if I hate you
Age: Old enough to buy a bev, young enough to be surprised when granted entrance into a club without having to prove age to the bouncer.
Smoker: No. No. No. No. seriously who even smokes anymore? If it's not herbal, it's just not worth it.
Pets: YES. a thousand times yes. (but seriously no even though it makes me sad)
Interests: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Gin..... Netflix. I mean what else is there?
Finally, I began carefully crafting my character into three paragraphs. Now this is where the real navigation begins, after looking down other posts, I knew I had to have a little more going on. I was on a tight deadline and I needed to wow prospective flatmates in just a short space of time. Three lines with just a budget limit and postcode wasn't going to cut it.
I of course started with my job... I am on the radio *hair flick* - yes you might be able to get free stuff through association *mwah* - no I won't be recognised walking through the street *sideeye*. Next came things like my interests (see aforementioned list for those), my desire to be slightly sporty and the little detail of my long distance boyfriend - good because I don't see him all the time but also means you get the place to yourself some weekends. (See, I've got all the perks.)
After a few messages from households that absolutely didn't fit my requirements, no - I don't want to live with smelly boys please and thanks, I decided to get proactive and messaged a few girls that I felt did. It's surprising how shallow you can become on apps like these; I never thought I was a snob or judgemental but I ruled out many prospective flat mates in just one photo - deeming them 'just not my kinda gal' with one glance - awful I know - but an interesting insight into the world of online profiling.
My first success came with Georgia, a 23 year old post graduate scientist at the University of Leeds. Recently single and nursing heartbreak, up for making friends and from her snap on a night out (great eyebrows and a pornstar martini in hand) - my kinda gal...what?! eyebrows say a lot about a person! She'd been living in Leeds for 6 years already and so knew her way around (bingo). Upon meeting her though - I was informed she was very much in need of a fresh start. Together, we scoured pages on Rightmove and Zoopla - looking for our perfect palace.
While looking for places fit for two princesses - Summer dropped me a message. The 24 year old engineer told me she liked my profile (SCORE! The carefully curated chronicle of my character was a success) and wondered if I'd like to meet up for a coffee. Summer was without a full image of her face on her picture - but she did have an excellent outfit on. Beret stripes and dungarees - I'll be borrowing that thank you! I deemed her suitable after learning she would be new to the city and broached the idea of a *different kind* of threesome.
Flash forward and I've been one third of the household for the last year. It's come to an end now and my search started all over again.
Alas, Summer ended up hating Leeds - too far from her boyfriend and family, with a job full of ... well arseholes to be honest and Georgia is planning on finishing up her thesis from her home down South - disenchanted with Leeds after the 7th year - I can't blame her.
I got lucky with these two girls, I really did, my first experience of 'flat-mating' has been actually quite a success. I've heard some horror stories.
I've learned a lot since living with them - firstly, it's so important to be friends with who you live with. Yes, I was very judgemental when scrolling that stream of smiling faces but you have to be; moving to a new city is scary but making friends in your twenties is scarier still. It's maddening enough to come home and have to cook your own tea (oh mum, how I took you for granted) but to cook alongside people you potentially can't stand, in silence - unbearable.
Next - never underestimate the power of face to face conversation. I said I got lucky with these two girls but it's not always been plain sailing. You wouldn't guess it from this post (please recognise the humour at points) but I'm actually very laid back. It's not a trait always shared; being slightly highly strung with a fear of confrontation is not a well mixed cocktail; it's a breeding ground for passive aggression and can inflict flurries of group messages at any hour of the day... even about spoons and melons - who would have thought such things could rile up a human?! If there's one thing I've learned over this past year - 'just say it to my face' is a golden rule, or at least it should be. If you want me to recycle a melon rind? - tell me don't text me. If you want me to switch off the drysoon at night? let me know to my face. If you want me to take out the bins - don't just put the bag outside my bedroom door.
Speaking of bins, that brings me to another lesson: carrying out a fair share of housework. Among the three of us, one particular flatmate (again I will protect their identity) has undergone the entire year (and I mean ENTIRE year) without so much as lifting a finger. Sure, she washes her own pots and does her own laundry but not once has she taken the bins out without being asked, not once has she given the place a quick hoover let alone getting the mop out god forbid. It takes it's toll and can be at the core of the previously mentioned flurry of texts.
Third - make other friends. Summer didn't make much effort as far as people go outside of us and her work friends. There isn't another group she can call upon when she's here at a weekend and it can mean she gets pretty lonely. Georgia and I however, joined a netball team. Here, we have 10 new girlfriends to talk boys and share clothes and do wine and cheese nights and text running commentaries as we all watch love island from our beds. It's made a huge difference to our social lives and means aside from flatmates and workmates - we genuinely have people we can call upon. That said I'm quite glad I get them all to myself next year. It's one thing to have 10 new friends, it's another to share them.
Finally, and this is just admin. Don't share with a student. Council tax is expensive and it's tough to manage for a year without a third share.
As I go into my next year of 'flat-mating' (I'll introduce Katie in a later post) I take these lessons with me. It's been a whirlwind of a year but I really did get lucky and I've made friends for life in Georgia and Summer. I know that, despite my dad's genuine disbelief at WANTING to share a home with more than one person that's not my family, having flatmates you genuinely love can be lifesaving.
I may not be Carrie, Blair, Rachel of Monica - but it's been good just being Lizzie in this adventure.
Now, I've never used a dating app before but I can only imagine using one is exactly the same as spareroom, only without the unsolicited dick pics - thank fuck. Curating a profile is a lot like curating your online persona - How do I want to be perceived? I started with the headline: 'Young professional seeks similar female/(s)'. I'll be honest it makes me want to vom even now. It reminds me of an old newspaper advert - the kind they had in the 90's when in search of a date or the third party to a middle-aged threesome. It did the job though, and thankfully was similar to other headlines I scrolled through. I eventually picked photographs that I felt were an accurate representation of who I am (or how I want to be seen); a selfie, face-tuned to fuck but because obviously people need to know what I look like; a group snap with the gals, because this is my vibe on a night out - look I can scrub up alright! I won't be the ugly one you're embarrassed to take with you; a cheesy snap up a volcano in Bali, because I'm adventurous and fun and oh look I've been travelling; and a close up with my bestie at a day dinner party; because my social life is not always quite as glam as that gals pic and you need to know that. Chuffed with my selection I started to think about what I wanted from my buddy up.
'Buddy Up': spareroom lingo for 'I don't like any places on offer so I'm hoping someone else feels the same way who is remotely similar to me and we can keep our standards high together'.
Total Budget: Not too expensive because realistically I make no money but also I don't want to look cheap either
Minimum Term: Not too long because what if I hate you
Age: Old enough to buy a bev, young enough to be surprised when granted entrance into a club without having to prove age to the bouncer.
Smoker: No. No. No. No. seriously who even smokes anymore? If it's not herbal, it's just not worth it.
Pets: YES. a thousand times yes. (but seriously no even though it makes me sad)
Interests: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Gin..... Netflix. I mean what else is there?
Finally, I began carefully crafting my character into three paragraphs. Now this is where the real navigation begins, after looking down other posts, I knew I had to have a little more going on. I was on a tight deadline and I needed to wow prospective flatmates in just a short space of time. Three lines with just a budget limit and postcode wasn't going to cut it.
I of course started with my job... I am on the radio *hair flick* - yes you might be able to get free stuff through association *mwah* - no I won't be recognised walking through the street *sideeye*. Next came things like my interests (see aforementioned list for those), my desire to be slightly sporty and the little detail of my long distance boyfriend - good because I don't see him all the time but also means you get the place to yourself some weekends. (See, I've got all the perks.)
After a few messages from households that absolutely didn't fit my requirements, no - I don't want to live with smelly boys please and thanks, I decided to get proactive and messaged a few girls that I felt did. It's surprising how shallow you can become on apps like these; I never thought I was a snob or judgemental but I ruled out many prospective flat mates in just one photo - deeming them 'just not my kinda gal' with one glance - awful I know - but an interesting insight into the world of online profiling.
My first success came with Georgia, a 23 year old post graduate scientist at the University of Leeds. Recently single and nursing heartbreak, up for making friends and from her snap on a night out (great eyebrows and a pornstar martini in hand) - my kinda gal...what?! eyebrows say a lot about a person! She'd been living in Leeds for 6 years already and so knew her way around (bingo). Upon meeting her though - I was informed she was very much in need of a fresh start. Together, we scoured pages on Rightmove and Zoopla - looking for our perfect palace.
While looking for places fit for two princesses - Summer dropped me a message. The 24 year old engineer told me she liked my profile (SCORE! The carefully curated chronicle of my character was a success) and wondered if I'd like to meet up for a coffee. Summer was without a full image of her face on her picture - but she did have an excellent outfit on. Beret stripes and dungarees - I'll be borrowing that thank you! I deemed her suitable after learning she would be new to the city and broached the idea of a *different kind* of threesome.
Flash forward and I've been one third of the household for the last year. It's come to an end now and my search started all over again.
Alas, Summer ended up hating Leeds - too far from her boyfriend and family, with a job full of ... well arseholes to be honest and Georgia is planning on finishing up her thesis from her home down South - disenchanted with Leeds after the 7th year - I can't blame her.
I got lucky with these two girls, I really did, my first experience of 'flat-mating' has been actually quite a success. I've heard some horror stories.
I've learned a lot since living with them - firstly, it's so important to be friends with who you live with. Yes, I was very judgemental when scrolling that stream of smiling faces but you have to be; moving to a new city is scary but making friends in your twenties is scarier still. It's maddening enough to come home and have to cook your own tea (oh mum, how I took you for granted) but to cook alongside people you potentially can't stand, in silence - unbearable.
Next - never underestimate the power of face to face conversation. I said I got lucky with these two girls but it's not always been plain sailing. You wouldn't guess it from this post (please recognise the humour at points) but I'm actually very laid back. It's not a trait always shared; being slightly highly strung with a fear of confrontation is not a well mixed cocktail; it's a breeding ground for passive aggression and can inflict flurries of group messages at any hour of the day... even about spoons and melons - who would have thought such things could rile up a human?! If there's one thing I've learned over this past year - 'just say it to my face' is a golden rule, or at least it should be. If you want me to recycle a melon rind? - tell me don't text me. If you want me to switch off the drysoon at night? let me know to my face. If you want me to take out the bins - don't just put the bag outside my bedroom door.
Speaking of bins, that brings me to another lesson: carrying out a fair share of housework. Among the three of us, one particular flatmate (again I will protect their identity) has undergone the entire year (and I mean ENTIRE year) without so much as lifting a finger. Sure, she washes her own pots and does her own laundry but not once has she taken the bins out without being asked, not once has she given the place a quick hoover let alone getting the mop out god forbid. It takes it's toll and can be at the core of the previously mentioned flurry of texts.
Third - make other friends. Summer didn't make much effort as far as people go outside of us and her work friends. There isn't another group she can call upon when she's here at a weekend and it can mean she gets pretty lonely. Georgia and I however, joined a netball team. Here, we have 10 new girlfriends to talk boys and share clothes and do wine and cheese nights and text running commentaries as we all watch love island from our beds. It's made a huge difference to our social lives and means aside from flatmates and workmates - we genuinely have people we can call upon. That said I'm quite glad I get them all to myself next year. It's one thing to have 10 new friends, it's another to share them.
Finally, and this is just admin. Don't share with a student. Council tax is expensive and it's tough to manage for a year without a third share.
As I go into my next year of 'flat-mating' (I'll introduce Katie in a later post) I take these lessons with me. It's been a whirlwind of a year but I really did get lucky and I've made friends for life in Georgia and Summer. I know that, despite my dad's genuine disbelief at WANTING to share a home with more than one person that's not my family, having flatmates you genuinely love can be lifesaving.
I may not be Carrie, Blair, Rachel of Monica - but it's been good just being Lizzie in this adventure.
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