Hello my name is Emma and I’m a Mancunian although my accent doesn’t give it away, I know I’m a strange mixture of Croydon, Shropshire and Mancunian depending on what situation I’m in: Croydon to sign on, Shropshire to get a job, and Mancunian to buy something illegal.

I’m a Manchester Mongrel. My Mum is from Croydon and is an adopted mank, a ‘Mankugee’ she has lived here for over thirty years. She’s an intelligent woman, a wordsmith, which in Mancunian means she can talk the hind legs off a donkey. Her stories have a beginning, middle and no end which, is ironic, because she leaves the shortest voicemails ever: ‘Hi Emma, it’s your Mum’. Thank you for the info Mum the phone saying ‘Missed Call Mum’ told me that but thank you.

But I love Manchester, Manchester is my home, I know it like the back of my hand, or my arse: I know it can be a bit hairy but because I can’t see it, I don’t care. Sorry but, I can’t find the female equivalent of ‘Crack, Back and Sack.’ I Googled ‘Tash, Twat and Crack’ but, nothing came up.

Manchester is also good for music. Mancunians have the best record collections n’all that. I am a fan of House music, but as I’ve got older I see House music more as housework music. Ecstacy is helpful for the enjoyment of House Music and pretty much anything, for four hours at least. It’s just a shame you use all your serotonin and sense of hope, for a month, in four hours.

It’s like one of those rides outside supermarkets, fun while you’re on them but when it stops, you realise that you’ve spent a lot of money and you’re in exactly the same place you were before.

kid ride

I’m lucky to have family support in Manny, I went to Goldsmiths, in London. No, I didn’t do an internship in engagement rings, Goldsmiths the art college. It’s distinguished for art but, I did English. It’s like selling the programmes in the foyer of the Royal Opera House while the Tenors and Sopranos get all the limelight on stage.

After university I became part of the ‘boomerang generation’ ending up back at home. I would like call the time after graduating the ‘Homes Under the Hammer years’ who needs excitement when there’s the anticipation of seeing the before and after shots? I’d watch other people achieving their goals and dreams as though they were my own.

During the Homes Under the Hammer years I had constant arguments with my Mum but, there are perks to living with your Mum. Such as, Tupperware in a Tupperware cupboard . You don’t appreciate this until you have lived in a house share which, doesn’t so much have a Tupperware cupboard as a Tupperware locale. And it’s not Tupperware, it’s plastic takeaway boxes which dribble soup all over your bag. And mugs! An abundance of mugs that are hooked up and clean! You don’t have to forage under a pan of four day old beans to find one, they’re clean, hooked up and dangling in the summer breeze. It’s a beautiful sight.