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I'm a rageaholic, I'm addicted to rageahol!
2005-06-14 | 8:52 p.m.

My Glastonbury tickets arrived by courier this morning. I was hugely thankful for this as I imagined them being lost forever in some big warehouse. I can't believe the festival's next week either, but as much as I'm looking forward to it I always worry about the journey there for the following reasons:

Two years ago - didn't have a seat reserved on the train to the festival. Was put behind metal barriers at Paddington station for fucking ages, thankful only for the fact I didn't suffer from claustrophobia. Fellow Glastonbury-ers fill up the station to alarming levels so we're all sent on a train to some random place in Somerset (Taunton). Having eventually arrived at the right station (Castle Cary) my brother's friend is arrested for train ticket forgery. Total time of journey? Ten hours.

Last year - Tori drives us there and I'm (an excellent if I do say so myself) navigator. At one point Natalie and I give conflicting directions to the driving Tori. Tori goes with Natalie's train of thought and we drive back the way we came from for a good while. Eventually get to the festival. Phew... Or not. Get lost trying to find the appropriate car park and pass the same fruit farm three bleeding times. To this day I remember the sign that was hung up outside it: 'We have sold out of apples.' Whilst lost find a genuine West Country farmer, who dirtied my map with his manure-covered fingers.

Ahh, I suppose it'll be eventful if nothing else.

This weekend, one of my very good friends, Leanne, is having an all day farewell barbecue/party (or, if you're a Simpsons fan, a BBBQ - the extra B is for BYOBB!), because she is going off to travel the world, and the New Bloke is coming along which means he'll be staying with me, in the house I live in with my mum and step-dad. I have no idea if I'm alone with this and being completely irrational but I have always, ALWAYS had an innate fear of bringing boyfriends home to meet the parents. One of the reasons I didn't want to break up with the ex was because I'd got accustomed to him knowing my parents and luckily they liked and got on with each other. I know it's stupid, especially since I'm not ashamed/embarrassed of my boyfriend or my parentfolk, but the idea of them meeting for the first time does induce a certain amount of stress in me.

If anyone else shares my fear I would be DELIGHTED to hear about it.

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