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[November 09, 2009 | 12:39 PM] I had the lovliest weekend I think I can ever remember having; it might seem completely boring, but it just felt like everything was falling into place. My mum and sister went to stay with my grandma for the weekend, so on saturday Jamie and I had the house to ourselves. We were both supposed to be seeing friends, but sitting together and just relaxing seemed like a far more logical idea, so we both cancelled. Winters already hit hard around here, and it was pitch black by 5 o'clock. I was going to have missed gossip girl - my grandad stayed the night it was first on and doesn't like watching tv - but the repeat started ten minutes later than it was meant to, meaning I turned the tv on just as it started. Jamie went into my room, got my duvet and spread it flat infront of the fire, turning the tv to face where it sat. He then got the spare duvet, and all of the pillows and cushions, and wrapped us up. I felt so safe and relaxed, sat there huddled among the covers with him, the fire warming the whole room. In the ad breaks, we just kissed, his arms wrapping the duvet around me. In the final break he gave me a massage and I've never felt so relaxed in my life. When gossip girl finished, he kept me wrapped up and started making dinner for me. He made vegetarian pies, mash, peas and gravy. It might not seem too exciting, but it was the perfect winter warmer. As soon as we were done, we decided to go and watch the fireworks display. Instead of just going to a park to watch them, Jamie drove his car up to the Ridgeway, a hill that overlooks all of the nearby tow ns and villages. There we sat in his car, wrapped up in hoodies, scarves and gloves, and watched all of the fireworks go off. They looked so beautiful set against the vast black sky, and the twinkling orange lights. When they'd finished, we drove home for ice cream and warm waffles and a mug of hot chocolate. We got back into our makeshift bed and, propped up against the sofa, watched Evan Almighty. When it finished, we made more hot chocolate and watched Sex and the City until half one, when we finally dragged ourselves to bed. On Sunday, I had the first lie-in I can remember having for weeks. When I woke up I noticed Jamie'd disappeared so I went to look for him. He was in the kitchen making coffee in the cafetiere and marmite on toast, cut into triangles (my favourite) to surprise me. For the rest of the day I got the rest of my work done, which for once did not aggrivate me, and played the simpsons game together on the xBox. This weekend was exactly what I needed. I've been so moody recently with the amount of stress I've had from college, and that's meant me being a complete nightmare at home.

[October 17, 2009 | 01:00 PM] I want to live in London, look like Zooey Deschanel and play the piano. I'm sat in Laurie Lee's pub, and I feel at home.

[October 03, 2009 | 10:55 AM] I watched as the scenery burnt my eyes in a quizical blur. Old clock towers and cindered factories that looked as though they had been abandoned for decades. Deserted bridges stretched and curved over rivers moulded with dark green algi, and tall, handsome buildings stood impressively over fragile looking streets. Every now and then, this mortmain scenery was disected by yellowing grass and half-timbered buildings. The greying clouds seemed to swamp the tallest buildings, smothering them in a smoggy haze. An abandoned well lay overgrown in the midst of an empty field, flanked by trees battling the charcoal gusts of wind, leaning so far they appeared to be reaching for sone unobtainable object just further than their grip could reach. Faded churches snuggled themselves between great red-brick offices, seeming insignificant amongst the high-speed rush of the streets they faced. As I stared at the scenery running alongside the pounding train, I felt as though I was speeding, weightless, through these unknown places myself; barefoot, and unaware of the streaming gusts beating harshly into my face, I noticed every delicate point around me. I turned and revelled in the gently curling edges of the fields, the steep angles of the grey, stone towers which peered so sternly over cobbled paths and steel railings.

[September 01, 2009 | 03:34 PM] A tissue under the pillow, the hat on the floor. Come home.

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