* a comedian
Sometimes you try to write and write and write something, and then you realize it's no longer what you're trying to say. I was trying and struggling with a blog post, and it's all very good... and then there's nowhere to go with it. There was no way to put into words the ideas I …
Continue reading "A spell of gloominess, and learning not to worry so much"
Four and a half months into living in a different country, I find myself on a plane back to my own. When I booked my flight, I booked this as well; it was a tad bit easier to leave the only life I’d ever known when I knew when I’d be back next. So here …
As I get used to being Leslie in London and, in the process, rediscover and reevaluate what it means to be Leslie, who I am does in some ways become more pronounced. Over the course of my life, I've become a person who'll make an effort to change something if I don't like it. I'm keen on …
I suppose I'm overdue for a post, given the fact the last one I wrote over a week ago was entirely about comedians (which is appropriate, because so is my life). Update on that front: on Tuesday I went with friends to Etcetera Theatre in Camden to see the absurd and delightful Joey Page, featuring a special guest …
Continue reading "Big things have happened; I focus instead on my hair and some comedians"
In an email to a friend, I referred to Old Rope, a new material comedy night of which I've become a regular, as "the meaning of life." Certainly this could be thought of as hyperbole, but feels strangely true. Because why on earth shouldn't it be? Why, in the London life I've been dreaming of …
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 …
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 …
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 …
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 …
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 …
Leslie Ewing-Burgesse* 