Being in Cornwall. A mix between being totally comfortable and itching to get out again. It always feels slightly confining, like everything's too small here. Like it's all shrunk and all the air's being slowly sucked out. I always feel rough in the throat too because I talk so much, jumbling stories and trying to catch up with everyone and fill in every detail for them.

Mum is glorious, wild-haired and full of affection, getting faux-cross with my DS when the brain training game told her that her mental age was 80. It's always good spending time with this vision of my future. Plus she's a ton of fun. Ali is still bratty and barrells into conversations to swerve them back to her concerns. She's single again, having recently messily split with Dan. He was a little smothering and got moody and shouted at her when he drank. Strangely, they still went to prom together tonight. Dad is in fine form, asking many questions about the wedding and telling me to come and see Round the Horne when it comes to Plymouth later in the year. Also Chris called round for a visit and we got to catch-up before his house warming on Saturday.

Hopefully, I will find a new phone whilst I'm here for Mum to buy me as part of my birthday presents and by the time I return to Southampton, Jeremy will have worked his techy magic on Zordon, for a modest fee of course. Or not so modest should it turn out to be more broken than I thought.