Tuesday 28th June 2011 9.51pm

So I'm sat in my old bedroom of my parent's house. Just packed my belongings ready for the mega-early-mega-long bus journey back to London tomorrow. Trying to figure out how one average sized girl can manage a huge rucksack, a guitar (in a hard case), a handbag and a large (new) macbook pro. But God knows I'm gonna try.

I love my family but we suffer from 'lackofthingsincommontosis'. I have been sat in my room most of the evening wondering why I am still in sleepy Somerset and not returned to my crazy London life. There isn't an answer really, except that when you're not with family you miss them, and when you're with them you all sit in seperate rooms staring at separate TV screens or computers. The next time my parents see me I will be embarking on my biggest role to date.

So I'm back from Glastonbury 2011. And just to make all you non-glastonbury-2011-goers happy, I am not going to rave at how AMAZING it was. Because I'm not utterly convinced I had a good time. I was 16 the last time I graced the festival (despite actually coming from this very town) and I did feel it had lost it's magic somewhat. I couldn't really decide whether it was me being an old hippy, or just that I see the world more clearly now at my grand old age of 22, but it didn't seem as friendly as it once was. Ok, granted, I made this decision pretty sharpish when I received a feline hostile laugh upon my entrance to the festival. (I only asked where my campsite was). But unfortunately I wasn't much convinced otherwise as the festival continued.

I think other factors in my lack of enjoyment were the fact that when I last went I was a young adventurer, Glastonbury spelt freedom and excitement. But now that I live a constant life of freedom and enjoyment, Glastonbury felt quite small and tame by comparison. Friends were also interesting. I have a group of friends that are unconditional. But there was no denying it, there was a strange strain on our relationships this past week which has left me feeling lost, and a little upset. Feeling like you're the old boring toy that no one wants to play with is hard work in festival land. Especially Glastonbury. Where's the unconditional world wide love that Eavis dreams of? Anyway, as we get older, getting wasted and staying up and doing ridiculous things seem to take the place of getting lost in music and doing for the music. But as I said, maybe I'm just an old hippy.

A friend spotted my 'Vivien of Holloway' advert in Elle Magazine today. Madness. This time last year I was working two jobs - one as a waitress and one as an entertainer at Madame Tussauds. Now, if you walk into WH Smiths right now, you can find me in THREE magazines. It weirds me out how normal things become so quickly. If you'd told me that last year I would have thought you were joking. If you'd told me at 16 that I was going to be a model I would have eaten my own head!

Anyway, the parents beckon. A glass of red wine and a chat may solve my worries. Deary me, Somerset is definitely not for me anymore. Take me back to my strip clubs and night buses. (I'm lying - I always get a cab - snob). I'm gracing the Albert hall to see one of my idols Liza Minnelli tomorrow night. (And I also can't wait to be back in the arms of a certain Welshman).