On one of my first days in London, I happened to be looking at Twitter when I saw mention of a contest. The prize? A spot on the guestlist for a party thrown by Tatty Devine, a favourite jewellery company of mine. The theme of the party was Holi, an Indian festival celebrated by people …
Quick update (or: rambling)
Once you’re into your second week staying in hostels, it’s easy to forget that privacy is a thing people often value above all else. Desperate times, after all, assuming you can really call the attempt to make a life for yourself in your dream city “desperate times”. You can’t. It can’t be done. But hostels …
The first few days in review
Hard to believe I've been here four whole days. Hard to believe I've only been here four days. I guess the answer to the question nagging away at me of who I am, out of context, is Leslie. Just Leslie. Always Leslie. Don't know how to be anyone besides Leslie, and I'm actually glad of that (and …
The Continuing Story of Leslie and Chav Ghost
Back when I was in London in 2011 with my friends Nidal and Jen, I made three visits to Maison Bertaux, a place I'd looked so forward to visiting because I knew that Noel Fielding (I'm trying to think of a concise way to explain Noel Fielding to anyone who doesn't know who he is, …
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LONDON!!!!!!! + friends friends friends friends friends friends friiiiiieeeennnnddddssssss
I have to take this time to admit something: all that talk in my massive goodbye note/life story of how I’d had to revise that very piece of writing as the time came closer, and I still wrote it a week ahead of time. I did so out of simple necessity; I knew I wouldn’t …
Goodbye, Ottawa: A Novel
Back in November, after a night of drinking and wonderful socialization, I found myself home in what was only to be my apartment for one week longer, and I sat down, and I wrote. I wrote something that I could share when I was moving to London, assuming what I was feeling then would remain …
Nearly there…!
The last time I was preparing to travel to the UK (the most glorious of trips, incidentally), I had my suitcase open on my apartment floor for about a week or two before I left, wandering around in circles whenever I was home and throwing things into a pile I'd sort later. Oh, this! Oh, this …
Some weird thing called getting my life together
To nobody's great surprise (except my own a little bit), I received my couriered passport yesterday morning, not with a tremendously douchey stamp, but with my UK visa. Five years. Multiple entries. Ancestry, working. My name correct, my photo correct, my date of birth correct. No issues to be found. I can't stop looking at …
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result?! / GOODBYES (pt. 2)
It's been a week, to say the very (very, very, very) least. On Sunday night, I had a stress dream. In it, I received a DHL envelope from the UK Border Agency. I cautiously opened it, and found my passport, not with a visa but with a simple stamp. "You don't deserve to live in …
Leslie Ewing-Burgesse* 