I'M LAYING OUT THE TABLE FOR TO WELCOME YOU BACK HOME
It's been rather appropriate of me to re-read High Fidelity this week, notably because I think I've become a younger and slightly more cantankerous female version of its protagonist, Rob Fleming. Well, kind of. As I mope around my parents' house in my engineer boots and black jacket, communicating only through my pop records, and generally making a hash of any well-meaning thing my parents say, I can't help but suspect it's true. Oh, and add to this the image of your very own Sarah sitting on the back porch and smoking, while her parents watch Nightline. It's been kind of like that. I sort of have the suspicion that they really don't want me around anymore, and that's fair. I am messy and kind of lazy and pretty much involved in a handful of activities, none of which ask that I leave my bedroom. Come on, now, Pittsburgh, I know YOU have a smile for me.