Came home for four days, I've already sunk into the old patterns. I liked getting behind the wheel of a car for about 30 minutes, then it just got dumb again. Why am I driving to a friend's house that's three miles away? I bike that far to work everyday in traffic that's ten times as hazardous...

I feel like a taker again. Too much food here, my clothes get washed outside my bedroom door, a car in the driveway. I lose that in Brooklyn. Sounds ridiculous, but it just feels so much better knowing that the only person I'm depleting is myself.

I want to hit it so hard when I get back. Give myself completely to whatever it is I'm doing. I feel like I'm gathering up the feelings I need to get back to writing songs. The focus needed to write these stories, it's coming back. I'm digesting the Radical Face album, Jerry's lyrics from the Trophy Scars albums and I'm remembering how I felt the first time I listened to Strange Negotiations. Mixes of the old material will be done shortly--for real this time--and then it's off to the next step.

I spent the holiday feeling odd talking to relatives. It never ends, the 'How are you doing in x?' College may be done, but I'm still a child in their eyes and they're going to talk to me that way until I settle down into something long enough. I thought about Bazan's story, about the holidays and how he would lie about being a musician, telling his family he taught music instead of playing in a band. His mom pulled him aside and said, 'Why are you lying? If you're serious about this then be proud.'

So next time around I'll tell them all without shame. Maybe they'll see me on tour in February, that'll show them. I'll post the dates.