Counted over 20 police at the bus station alone. There is a truly tense atmosphere on the streets of Wolverhampton. Just witnessed in excess of 30 policemen leave Bilston St police station in group formation. Although there are a lot of rumours going around they are obviously expecting trouble. We heard that there was a group of 100+ moving into town from Whitmore Reans but we just don’t know. It’s so surreal leaving work and not knowing if the building will be there tomorrow. 

Police just swooped on a group of youths right in front of our bus! Have them pinned up against the shop and are searching them. I just want to get out of Wolves. It’s horrible!

- Sarah Aldridge (my Aunt who works at Wolvo Courts)

And the West Midlands police haven’t made a statement about Wolvo since last night which was to say that nothing is happening in Wolvo....

Home comforts, cosiness and a not-quite-relevant video clip.

Sometimes I wonder how I would define "home comforts". Unlike most people I know in university I wholly consider Lincoln to be my home. Wombourne is just my other home. Is it possible to have two homes? It must be... Wombourne is my family home to Lincoln is my own city where I came to out of choice rather than the geographical location of my Mom.

I think there's two kinds of "home comfort". First there's the material type; a washing machine that I don't need to go to another building to use for a start. Then there's the distinct lack of loud students in Wombourne. If there's loud noise on my street in the wee hours then I'm usually the one making it. I also get woken up by laughing children outside my window rather than the strange squeal of something being done to a tyre at Tanvic (your No. 1 tyre centre) that seems to start at about 7am. Add to that the busy main road outside my window and I don't have the quietest accommodation.

Every time I think of washing machines...

Then there's the flat itself. By student accommodation standards I'm pretty lucky but due to the letting agent's incompetence with maintenance we have a rotting bathroom floor (ooh bouncy) and radiators that don't work properly (damn knobs). It's only now (after living here for 6 months) that we have extractor fans in the windowless/ventless bathrooms.

One thing (for once) I can't blame Lighthouse for is the lack of "cosiness". For a home to be "cosy" is a desired characteristic. Only the British could turn "small" into something so positive.

With all my photos and random objects and (cause I'm actually a small child) cuddly toys, my room does have a certain amount of cosiness but only so much clutter can try and cover up the bland furniture that's identical to every single room in the entire building. Then there's the kitchen, no matter how nice "open plan" seems, having a kitchen with a pile of washing up in your peripheral vision ruins any kind of pleasantness a cheap faux leather sofa, a tv and a pile of DVDs can achieve. It's not a living room, it's a kitchen with a sofa and a fridge that's far too close to the tv.

Our living room next year is big and square, it has an old, well-loved suite and carpet that isn't from the B & Q basics range. There's a chunky coffee table... (though I'm not sure it will ever earn the legendary status of my own coffee table that is current stored in my bedroom back in Wombourne.) We've got a hatstand people... a hat stand. Lighthouse would never provide a hatstand! If they did it'd probably be held together with tape and allergic to hats.

Next year I just have a feeling that I won't want for material home comforts. I'll have my washing machine, everything in the house will work, I won't need a code or a key fob to get home and i'll have somewhere to put my hats. When I travel back to Wombourne I'll be going to see everyone rather than to see everyone and also do as much washing as I can fit into my suitcase. I'll have the proper home comforts, a mom-made meal covered in cling film in the microwave, year old christmas chocolates in the fridge, and evening on the sofa with the mom discussing the latest drama at the Co-op, that long walk up Ounsdale road to see the group or go to my Aunt's. Damnit, I want to go home for family and friends not appliances, my mattress and a nicely decorated bathroom.

Gosh darn it studenthood, why aren't you cosy?

Illness, listlessness and generally melancholic boredom.

I hate being ill.

I had this 24 hour thing, which has thankfully buggered off. However now I still have an excruciating sore throat. Y'know the kind were it hurts to breath? And now I'm just utterly utterly fed up of it all. I'm running out of anything to entertain myself with. In my fatigued state I'm not exactly in a writing mood, nor to I have the will power to lift up a book let alone focus on the words. I'm unwilling to play on my PSP because I don't have my charger with me so no games for ill Suzal. And because the TV here doesn't have Dave I'm left with watching miscellaneous stuff online, mostly Bones*.

I'm just so listless right now. Add my sore throat, tiredness, and lack of human company and all I've been doing all day is staring at my computer screen and waiting for Mom to return from work so that I can enjoy listening to anecdotes from the Co-op then eventually faceplant my bed until tomorrow. Tomorrow, at least, I can escape the house. I'm off shopping with the Mother and to Burger King (omnomnom) for lunch which shall really cheer me.

Until then, however, moping around the house and being unproductive is all I shall do. I'll just stare at this here screen until my eyes turn square.

*I also watched an episode of Silent Witness... on the inferiority. The US make a lot of rubbish but crime dramas are something they do well. (Let's not talk about CSI.)

Excuse me whilst I push my teeny tiny trolley around this here teeny tiny supermarket.

Scrambling up onto a chair to reach the top of a wardrobe after a few glasses of wine probably wasn't my best idea. However what I discovered was well worth it.

On a sidenote... I'm glad my hair didn't suffer the 80s.

This toy took me through many an afternoon at my Nan and Granddad's. And it wasn't even my toy. My Aunt was originally bought this when she was about 8 at Christmas. Though I've learnt via anecdote that when first putting the little stickers on the supermarket items my Mom and Uncle apparently took over, eliciting 8-year-old Aunty Sarah to say "Who's toy is this?!"

A bit of honesty, vanity and healthy advice.

YO MOMMA’S SO FAT...... oh, actually I can see the TV fine, thank you.

In the last few months my Mom has been going to Weight Watchers on a Wednesday evening. To my surprise and according to my Mom, it isn’t some kind of Cake Eaters Anonymous. It isn’t a village hall full of sobbing fat women, lusting over chocolate cake.

In the last few months my Mom has lost 2 stone and looks amazing.

In the last few months I’ve been living in pyjama distance from a takeaway.

In the last few months I’ve lost the confidence to wear my bikini.

I smell roasting!

The chicken's in, so are the roasties, the balls are prepared and the sprouts are peeled and ready. Yes, me and my beloved Aunt are cooking our first ever roast dinner! So, I may have been living alone for a good six months... And my Aunt for a good er... 15ish years but this is a first for us. And we are proud of ourselves. Well, so far... We're only half way through and our balls are looking pretty malformed.