Stories from 1996 Chapter 29 A Britpop Journal

Popscene flyer

August 31st 1996

The last day of my Summer of ’96. So many laughs, so much drinking and a couple of hugely regrettable dalliances with substandard guys. I am still wading through the sludge of shame on that last one. My mates just will not let it go. Is a girl not allowed one reckless mistake? Or am I forever nudge nudge wink wink fodder for others? I am desperately trying to gain back any tiny scraps or self-respect which is near impossible when so-called friends keep referring to ‘The Woody’ incident. A major faux pas – time to move on.

A few weeks ago I had a shopping list of 3 items

  1. A house
  2. A job
  3. A man.

I have failed miserably on number 3 but the excellent news of the day is that, in the space of one particularly proactive week, I have managed to acquire both paid work and a place to live. I can’t quite believe that this has happened but what a result. Next weekend myself, Harry and Ruth will be moving into an unspectacular but functional student house in Cathays. Yes, I did say student house and yes, I am aware that we all have graduated – we know we should be aiming for a flat down The Bay but, we are not ready to leave the mothership just yet. The familiarity and refuge of Studentville is too much of a draw at present. Grown up life is temporarily put on hold, again.

On Monday I start my new, unglamorous, temporary job at a generic call centre in town. Better than nothing and money in the bank. My debts are bulging and this is one aspect of reality that I can no longer put off.

So, with a heavy heart, I wave goodbye to the inflatable bed and my amazing companions over the summer. Time to move on and give Maisie and Rhys the privacy they deserve. Onwards and upwards. Well at least I will have a proper bed.

I am feeling suitably smug and Saturday excited. We are gearing up for an end of era night out at Clwb Ifor Bach tonight,  myself and Maisie, a dance floor full of lush dudes (hopefully) and some cool tunes. I will not be drinking Stella after last weekends’ performance and I have warned Maisie not to let me near anyone who isn’t in the same league as Mark Morriss.

*       *       *       *      *       *      *       *       *       *       *      *      *       *       *        *

Unfortunately, number 3 did not happen for me last night but there were a few close calls. Some nights it is all about your mates. We barely left the dancefloor, my feet are still throbbing the morning after but, thankfully, my head is pain free. There were lots of familiar faces, we ignored them all, we just danced, laughed and were the best of friends all night. Even though I am only moving across town, I will miss my summer roomies.

Today, seeing as we are miraculously hangover free (must be the dancing) we are heading out for a day trip to Barry Island. A day of fairground frolics.  I have a purse full of 2ps for the arcades, Rhys has promised me he will join me on the rides as Maisie is too scared and I will not return until I have had fish and chips and a stick of rock.

My final day of frivolity before entering the adult world of paid work (that makes it sound like I am a porn star).

From one chapter to another. Next on the agenda is a beautiful man. Maybe I’ll find him in Barry Island.

Barry Island

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