Hooooome...

I am back in the 'bridge. This is only my first night but it feels a little bit weird and I can't quite workout why.
My journey home was very dull until I got into Cambridge station; I asked the nice ticket man if he would let me through the big ticket gate thing because I had a massive bag and he said in his most patronising voice, 'just put your ticket in love and you'll be fine..' Well that got my back up straight away and since I had this huge bag I clearly wasn't going to be fine, so when I did get stuck I asked him, very politely, if he could open the ticket gate I had gone through since my hand was lodged in it and instead of apologising and helping me, he tutted! Then he said 'love you need to give yourself more time..' Now I should have stayed calm really but something inside me snapped so I said 'oi LOVE its not me who needs more time its this fucking ticket machine and actually you need to listen to what I'm saying next time!'
Well by this point I had held up everyone and was getting tuts thrown at me from every angle, but it wasn't over, just as he opened his mouth to say something back I launched in with an epic rant - 'look mate I haven't just dragged this suitcase all over the south east just to finally get into Cambridge and have some eejet (I actually came over a bit Irish) talk to me like a twat and actually help me to get trapped in a ticket gate, so how about next time you JUST DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!'
....Well I actually thought I was going to get arrested, so I did the very British thing of stomping off ranting and tutting under my breath...
So it would seem that I am home....

Tres bon Roots Manuva, tres tres bon..

Lots of fun had by all it would seem; I was getting down with my bad self for a good 2 hours and didn't once feel that I wasn't ghetto enough to be there...

So yeah here I am in, mostly, sunny Brighton. Its all going pretty well actually and after a month of eating relatively well, with only the bare minimum of pasta dishes consumed I feel like I can look after myself and when necessary even change my bed sheets.. The only downside I suppose would be that my halls are in the arse end of Nowhere (arse end being the key feature) which means thats buses are a bit thin on the ground but they do run 24/7 so I can't complain too much.

So before I started I thought I'd probably be one of the oldest in the flat and I was right and although at the beginning this wasn't such a problem, recently I have started to feel slightly responsible for some of the kids. For example they all seem ask me for advice when cooking risky food such as chicken or pork, I am always in charge of us getting the bus on time of a night out and I am always the one that turns the lights and switches off so the flat doesn't burn down. I mean I guess I should be flattered that they think I'm responsible but I want to be hip and cool and down with the kids and I didn't think I would start to feel old this far away from being 21. Also I don't know what the rules are about going out dancing, for example am I aloud out to clubs without a teenager to hand? When does drinking very cheap vodka from Asda stop being acceptable? And at what point, if any, do I step in if one of the kids is about to kiss a complete arse? I just don't know anymore!

Anyway... I will make sure I update this better and keep anyone reading up-to-date with my turning 21 life crisis also I will make my flow into neurotic content more smooth in the future........