Ah yes, I have officially moved back home. Not even a full day and I’m already itching to get out. This is not good. Please don’t misunderstand—I love my parents and personally, I think they might be the best parents a kid could have. However, it isn’t easy for any child to move home after two years (never visiting more then three days). There are the aforementioned perks, dishwasher, washer/dryer combination (for free I might add) but there is also having to ask to use the car, having to weather the “are you going to come home drunk?” looks (and some times talks). The real annoyance though, at least for the moment, is that I don’t have anywhere to put anything. My room is officially computer nerd heaven (computer, tv/vcr, playstation 2 all close together) and I still have more stuff. Books and CDs and posters and pictures and knickknacks and shit and shit and shit.

Alright, I’m better now.

I have to take this time to state this though: my parents are fantastic people and certainly not as horrible as others. While I do have to weather the “are you drinking” looks and the “oh my daughter is a ho” looks they still let me do my thing with a minimum of fuss. I really can’t argue with that.

Now if I could just find a way to get laid…oh wait, any random relatives reading this ignore that. Ah-ha, I made a funny. So I think I shall continue finding homes for my mountains of junk. I wouldn’t be a pack rat except it’s all got so much damn sentimental value attached. And everyone gets so fussy if you don’t display their gift.

Wait, I’m bitching because I friends that give me stuff…yeah I’m going to go not be dumb now.