I got home at 12.30 last night. Full of beef choke (congee) and affection for this world. My hair smelled of the bar - a salty-sweet concoction of alcohol, smoke, sweat (mostly not mine) and dying summer rain. I showered and crawled into bed, aching like a marathon runner. My neck was sore from too many dips on the dancefloor. Whiplash maybe? I couldn't turn over to get into a more comfortable spot without feeling my muscles groan I think I over did it dancing this time. Tried to make it for 930's yoga session but at 830 my parched and aching body was not going to let up.

"I've been here for 5 weeks, but I think I've heard her complain about over-doing-it-at-the-party-the-night-before on 4 seperate weekends." Martin to James, after watching Get Smart at the SUB, and before painfully turning down Jin's imploring request for a beer.

I'm now in IKE, music in my head and my Corporations textbook on my knee. My life is perfect (except for my lost necklace and the missing heart that fell out from my wallet). As I told Jarrett, Soush and Martin, it's not so much that there are people who are here for me, it's having people who let me be there for them.