I’ve been home exactly 24 days, yet I can’t help but wish that I could be anywhere but here. Closer to my friends would be helpful. I have run out of things to keep me occupied and so this evening resorted to cleaning… anyone who knows me knows that I hate to clean.

At the beginning I tried to get back in touch with people I knew at home, Hazel being one of them. I bumped into people I knew from secondary school, and people who knew of me have smiled. Yet there is no one here that I could really call my friend.

I have my younger sister, she’s 16 and in the middle of her annoying teenage phase; the one where her older sister isn’t good enough to talk to never mind spend time with. I’ll admit that she has her good times and bad. If you happen to have arrived here through twitter, you’ll know that occasionally my sister and I can have a good chat via social networking, nothing else.

I have run out of things to do. My reading challenge is driving me round the twist… I just can’t seem to focus long enough to get anywhere. With dad breathing down my neck to get a job that doesn’t exist, and my mum trying to get me to look busy so dad doesn’t complain.

I managed to watch the tennis, today with my friend Mercia. Wimbledon began today, and despite the two of us being at opposite ends of the country we managed to sit through a number of hours of tennis. I was so happy, I had someone to talk to.

I may be surrounded by people who love me, but there’s nothing worse than feeling alone in a crowd. They may love me and want the best for me, but no one here really understands me; my sister won’t give me the time of day, mum is mum, dad is dad and my grandparents are too old to understand the technology or my taste in fashion and design. I miss having Mercia and Cadie around.

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