That one song Mötley Crüe did, that involved Home, and Sweet, and Home again

I just realised something.

Tomorrow (and as I'm writing this at 11.56pm after watching the A-Team movie (seriously good movie, I recommend it fully), by the time I post this and you read this, it will be today), I will have spent 6 weeks exactly away from home.

6 weeks. 42 days.

Holy shit. Has it really been that long? XD

Not to say that I'm not missing you guys; I don't think a day has gone by when I've not checked here or Facebook and thought, "I wish I'd been there to see that." or "I've been away so long that that I don't get that in-joke."

And don't get me wrong, I love student live. The course so far is easy to get to grips with. The workload is fairly bearable. The nightlife is... an experience, but not a bad one. I can eat when I want, what I want, do whatever whenever. Plus, my room is huge and it has an Xbox, so you know, whatever ;P

But the fact that just 6 weeks ago, I had no idea what life as a student would be like, how I'd cope and was thinking about how I'd never been away from my home and my family for any real length of time, scares me a little. Before now, the longest I've been completely family-less was over the Duke of Edinburgh Bronze Expedition. A single weekend. Yeah, that sucks.

But even then, I was safe in the knowledge that I was going home at some point. That there was a set, defined time that I would be back in my comfort zone. It's like leaving home was the same as taking up the trapeze, and I alway knew that every time I tried to do it, there was a safety net underneath to catch me, so it's not all bad if I do fall.

So how much have I actually changed in 6 weeks? Without that safety net under me, have I managed to trapeze spectacularly?

I think so.

Back in Tapton, if someone had said "Party at my place!" my response would always have been "Oh, yeah, well, I would, but you see, umm, ahh, my, er, kidney removed. Tonight. For science." First off, I've come up with much better excuses. But second, I'm actually going out and partying... well, clubbing... well, trying to dance with other people who are drunker, tireder but still better dancers than I am. And you know what? I actually enjoy it. (Well, it depends on the music. If it's anything good. And I mean regular good, not Stokes' good. (=P Love you XD))

And 6 weeks ago, if you told me that I'd be content cooking my own meals every mealtime, I'd have slapped you in the face (unless you were a girl) and then cooked you a meal and force-fed you it as punishment. But now, I can actually motherfrikking cook! (Microwave chips and pot noodles count as home cooking, right?)

Finally, I think I've matured. Not in the pull-my-finger sense, that me is still immature as hell. I mean, I think I come across as older than I did before. Sure, bouncers keep asking me for ID to get in and I might have to have photo proof to buy the Saw Septrilogy after I've had a shave and am wearing my favourite "I'm 10 today!" birthday card badge, but people are treating me like some form of adult. I can go into a bank, and they start calling me Mr Baker. Professors, lecturers and teachers are letting me call them by their first name, rather than "Sir/Miss" (Dave, our Maths for Physicists lecturer, refuses to talk to people unless they call him some version of "DAAAVE-OOO!"). And one of the guys in our lab session came up to me, asked how to solve an equation, and was amazed I wasn't one of the post-grads helping out. In fairness, I was helping my friend set up a circuit I'd done 5 minutes beforehand, but the point remains: I THINK I'M GETTING OLD! AND IT'S SHOWING!

I don't know though. I don't want to learn to drive yet (although it wouldn't be much use at the moment if I did, I'm living five minutes away from ANYTHING inside Liverpool), I still play card games meant for children (supposedly, they're so complicated you need 5 years just to learn the bloody rules), and I still haven't matured enough to not laugh at fart jokes, or get over my fussiness about certain foods (no matter how old I get, I will always want to outlaw oranges).

And so, this is where you guys come in. In twelve days (I want you to count down to this, cos it's gonna be awesome), I am boarding a train and coming back to the Steel City. And hopefully... no, definately, even if I have to come around to your houses individually, I will see you guys then (I know Jake will be in Durham, and it's gonna suck not seeing everyone at once =( but there's always Christmas =D).

And when I see you, I would like you to appraise me.

Not in like a "Mmmm, he fine," kind of way (although I reckon Stokes will do that anyway :/), I mean to see how much I've changed. Call it an experiment. At some point, probably a few minutes or so into us meeting up (it'll probably be a pub session, or I could invite people around to what was once my family home), I'd like you all to give me a value of how much I've changed. Then, we can average those values, then divide that by the 8 weeks I'll have been away for (so 4838400 seconds, about) and that'll give me a rate of change.

Ok, I've been doing too much Physics XD

So, you probably don't remember what I was like when I left. I'll remind you: I was that one who was 6-foot but couldn't play basketball, stupid stuck-up hair, occasionally wore that big black army coat (although I sometimes still do) and hung out with you guys for a good 5 years, at least. Actually, I'd hope that the impression I left is enough. (Oh, and I was terrible at impressions.)

Ok, picture it. Got it? Good.

Well, I'm pretty much out of things to say. So I guess I'll see you all in 2 weeks, give or take =D

And look, it's now 1am. I'm an hour into my 6-week-being-a-student birthday XD