Boy was I in a bad mood yesterday. Four hours sleep in Miami, a twelve hour drive from Miami to Athens, followed by hurting my back lifting gear for probably the first time in my life (badly enough to nearly puke during the show, and I'm not usually a crybaby when it comes to pain). We did get to play for Seth's cousin (the one who played Johnny Cash at the wedding) and his girlfriend. I've been wanting to write about the trip for awhile, but every time I get a chance, I'm in more of a mood to waste time reading shit and looking a pictures. So, last night, I threw up a few sentences that don't really say what I meant, but I still mean what I said. I feel like I'm doing something wrong every time I speak, but I'm finally realizing that it doesn't necessarily mean that I am always the one in the wrong. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the PMS. And the Red States. Boy, I'm cranky. Sometimes, even sick to my stomach. I think it has a lot to do with being in a cramped van with the same people 24/7. I love the people I'm with, but everyone needs space. At least we're finally getting some what with a basement apartment to stretch out in. I'm going to finish reading the Mist, the first story in Stephen King's Skeleton Crew. It's the only book in here that interests me in the slightest, and I left my books in the van. Besides, my interest has been a little peaked since watching so many trailers for the movie based on said story.

I didn't think I'd want to come home. I thought I was sick of Halifax. And maybe I was. But, I really miss it now, and I hope things are as good as they can be. I'm not looking forward to driving into winter, but that's life.

Four years ago I got home after a night of drinking and apologizing too much and woke up frightened to realize blacking out was becoming commonplace.