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The other day - last week, I think. It was basically just a combination of homesickness, missing people and worrying over finances and university work. But it was mostly because I'm missing Jason an awful lot. At least twice a day he'll text or say something over the phone that makes me realise just how lucky I am, how much I miss him and all the rest; I'll admit that I've cried happy tears once or twice because of things he's said :')

Generally speaking, though, I don't cry very much. Last time before that was when St Aelreds had thrown out most of my A2 Art coursework. A whole year's work down the drain.

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In no particular order...

My Dad. He isn't perfect, but despite all that he raised me right and I'm so grateful to have had such a father figure in my life. Without my Dad, I wouldn't be the eccentric, independent and creative person I am today.

Nathan and Ashley, the best siblings you could ask for. Because they're like me (placid/can't be arsed wth bickering), I've been able to grow up in a household with people I can always have a laugh with; people I'm on the same wavelength as. They're nuts and I love them to bits!

And now the one you're probably all expecting. Jason. We've been going out nearly eight months now and he is my everything. He's generous, funny and handsome, appreciates me for who I am and makes me feel good about myself without making me depend on him to make me feel that way, if you know what I mean. He's so good to me; a lovely, fun person who never fails to make me smile. I'm so excited about the future we have together; I know that as long as it's with him, my future will be beautiful. I've never felt as lucky to have someone as I have about him. <3

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Thinking, mainly. I'm always thinking anyway and it's impossible to turn my brain off but at night, or when I'm enduring long bus or train journeys, my mind simply goes into overdrive. I think about Jason, university, writing, the day's events... and probably whatever else pops into my mind. When you can't sleep for thinking it's inconvenient, but I do get some pretty good ideas for stories when I'm thinking late at night. And I do pass out... eventually.

Next up, work and procrastination. Most students would probably agree. You've got 700 words to write on an essay and the deadline is tomorrow... stay up! You want to go to bed but LiveJournal is calling... check your f'list and wind up trawling the bowels of the Internet for funny macros about cats wearing ponchos.

And of course there's my sister Shannon, whose room I share. We're just as bad as each other, really - we talk into the wee small hours irrespective of what school or uni engagements we might have tomorrow. Usually the topic of choice is funny school stories, and I've got many. My high school was literally insane and Sixth Form gave me the most entertaining two years of my life. Plus her high school is full of bitches and odd people, so she always has something to contribute.

Last we have 'Rocketman' across the road. Nicknamed so because he has a Subaru that sounds like a flipping shuttle launch every time he turns the ignition. And he likes to drive at - shall we say, rather unconventional hours. *shakes fist at him*

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I'd request that he kindly step down and let me be Prime Minister instead. Being Prime Minister would be a laugh.

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Well, we clearly haven't gotten over gender inequality, if society feels the need to have a 'woman's equality day'.

You know what I'd like to see? And this goes for race, religion, LGBT, the disabled etc too - a society where we don't need these equality days and pride parades to campaign for equal rights. A society where everyone truly stands as equal, instead of the farcical equality we claim to today.

It's not impossible, but it's going to be bloody difficult to achieve. The need for a hierarchy (that is, some being 'better' than others for whatever reason) has been hardwired into our brains.

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Ford Prefect and The Doctor. 'nuff said.

Holy hell. I managed to write something yesterday! I wrote four pages (1200 words) of 'The Great Couch Happening of '69', and I'm going to aim for four pages a day minimum from now on.

It feels so good to be making steady progress again. I was starting to wonder whether it would be a year before I could get back into writing again. I was burned out completely and utterly after NaNoWriMo '10, and then along came The Prince's Trust, which takes up a lot of my time and most of my energy every day.

Yesterday and the day before, I slept over at Holly's. Typically, these sleepovers include a lot of writing banter and sometimes - on rare occasions, if we can stop gabbing enough to get our heads down - a little writing itself. So, on the second day, after sleeping in cataclysmically late, I made a pact. I was going to start on these novels again, and I was going to bloody well finish them.

So, here I am now, taking a short break for journalling purposes before getting back to 'The Great Couch Happening of '69'. That's the project I plan to tackle first, while it's sat neglected since October. So far, the whole 'getting back into it' thing has been good.

Today was yet another half-day at the Boys' & Girls' Club. The main room is used sometimes by an art club who refuse to relinquish the building so we can snazz it up. I complain because of the lack of time we have, everyone else celebrates about the gift of another lie-in.

I set my alarm for eight this morning. It went off at eight, I decided I was too tired, reset it for nine and passed out for an extra hour's kip. It went off at nine. I woke up, decided I was still too tired and set it for ten. It went off at ten... and I realised I needed to have a bath before going out, so I got up.

It was a weird feeling, going out at noon on a Monday. I'm actually used to these early mornings again, which can only be a good thing. I was one of the first to arrive.

Now for the day's work. It was all about sorting out the woodwork, finishing the coat of matt emulsion, scraping paint off anything that shouldn't be painted. Tomorrow, we're glossing it and having it finished up, as far as paint is concerned. That shouldn't take too long; if anything, we'll be able to get carpet tiles down tomorrow as well so the room's ready for furnishing.

All in all, we have two days left of our community project. The handover's actually on Friday, so that means we have Wednesday to finish everything off. I think we'll need the time - Newton Boys' & Girls' Club is a big project.

Tonight, as well as writing my three remaining pages for the day of 'The Great Couch Happening', I need to draft a letter to the St. Helens Reporter (not the Star, as a previous entry suggested) asking for a work placement. I'll handwrite it for Vicky to type up and send off. It's exciting, but nerve-wracking as well!

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Haha. This happened on Facebook - and, in fact, was one of the reasons I decided I couldn't be arsed with Facebook.

See, I was picked on mercilessly when I was a child. And it only happened after I left Ireland, started with little comments about my accent (which was strong back then) and eventually evolved until it would be verbal bullying about whatever they could think of - not that they knew much about me besides my accent and the way I looked.

So, when I joined Facebook, what did I get? Within two days, sixty-or-so friend requests from people, some of whom were my good friends, most of whom I barely knew, and some of whom were the people who made the later half of my childhood more unpleasant than it should have been.

What did I do? I swiftly hit 'decline'. And if I encountered these people again off the Internet (which, indeed, I have) I'd do the same, just ignore them.

If, however, they approached me, it would be a different story. If they tried exchanging pleasantries, I'd simply say "Sorry, but you were horrible to me as a kid; you aren't worth my time". If they apologised and were sincere about it, then fine. I could forgive.

If they decided to flog a dead horse by having another go? I'd just laugh in their face and walk on.

In a twist of fate most cruel, I posted a reply to a comment regarding anti-virus (in response to my entry about the recent ThinkPoint conundrum), and immediately afterwards, something popped up.

Damn you, ThinkPoint! Isn't it obvious that you aren't wanted, you pitiful, greasy little bastard? Get off my shiny new computer and perish in a thousand burning rubbish heaps! Then rub salt into your eyes whilst singing the French national anthem in Anglo-Norwegian! Then gamble away your life's savings (which you've no doubt pilfered off the good, honest and slightly more idiotic members of the Internet) betting on whether a guinea pig will explode on command! You are a pointless use of space! A waste of megabites! I detest you! Go away!

And choose somewhere quiet and remote to go away to. Like Svalbard, for example. No doubt they'll have use for you there.

So. To those of you who are slightly baffled by my sudden reversion to public blogging, I have decided to emerge from beneath my rock. It was difficult; with the weather being as it is I was frozen to the ground. I panicked for a bit, hoping my raw emotion would ionise the air or generate enough heat to set me free, but alas, no luck. I then made like an utter prat and used hot water. Which froze me even more.

Slightly defrosted a million years later, I realised what happened and bought without paying a crowbar from a passing lunatic, chiselled my legs free and then prised my arms off the ground, thus defying the laws of, frankly, everything and breaking reality as a result. My characters scoffed at me saying 'you're as bad as the rest of us!' and then I had them all perish in a fire. The fire was perfectly harmless, you understand, being made of words... to people, anyway. Huzzah!

I am now in the process of figuring out how to unperish all of my characters because without them, my career as a writer will go in the general direction of down the pan. And I hear the pan isn't a very nice place. Cholera, Mafia shootings and the like. It also vaguely resembles a toilet.

( There's a lion behind this cut. And it's hungry. Happily, it's a vegetarian. Unfortunately for you, you're a leek. Happily, it doesn't like leek. Unfortunately for you, it's got naff eyesight and it thinks you're a carrot. And it loves carrots. )

Look at the time. I haven't even managed a page yet. Maybe about two thirds of one. I've just sat here for hours, scribbling the occasional line and listening to music.

I should probably call it quits for tonight and have another go tomorrow. I seriously can't focus, tonight. Today's been so drab that I just want a new morning, a new day. I'll try to make an effort tomorrow to fight the boredom. Maybe then, my muse will come back.

It's worth mentioning that I would love to learn this song ('And You And I' - Yes) on guitar; the rhythm section that I could play to accompany vocals. I wouldn't mind doing the vocals, either; i'm not a brilliant singer but I'm not tone deaf and it doesn't stop me loving a good yodel!

Right, then. Now to tidy up for bed.