Home Sweet Home.

I haven't been behind my own front door for more than two hours in the last 4 days and i can't truthfully say i've missed it. Sure i've missed comforts like high juice on tap and my love-to-hate fuelled laptop but its been nice to spend over 80hours with Lauren and generally hate on life in a plural as opposed to singular cynical resent that tends to make me more feel like Dalia ++ angst than Jessica 'achieving but forever wanting'.

With the phrase 'i want out' i whole heartedly concur, sometimes i feel like trashing everything i'm interested in to live a life of listening to CD's in my car with my friends only for A-B to be Home-round the block-home and for days to be spent not driving to rumour-fuelled shows but in bed watching 'get rich or die trying' and wishing i too was a gangster rapper with more metal than sense. I no longer think summer is going to be about venues and live bands but car-trips and singalongs where we ride to get chips and pitta and icecream and not be glorified by word-from-mouth bullshit that consumes even the normally most placid of people.

I've had an amazing and shit weekend all at the same time, the only reason i'm glad to be home is that the only person to talk about me is me, and i've got very little to say.