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?

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?!"

2011 fun activities for waking hours

This morning I woke up with something of a hangover but then I saw two good things. Firstly, a glass of water placed beside my bed by my kind drunken self and then I moved it and discovered this. My hungover self giggled.

Ice Bear likes tape.

I'm not sure I have achieved much so far this year. 2011 for me has so far involved some light housework followed by and afternoon sat in bed watching some good old US crime drama. I feel I did actually achieve some things last year however. I upped my game with my uni work, I got myself a nice cushy job (not that I'd say no to one with more hours), I even found a gorgeous house for next year and most importantly I snagged myself a wonderful boyfriend. The latter made 2010 amazing. And the former three helped a teeny bit too.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more. 2011 is waiting for us and I'm gonna start it with an evening in the pub. Start as we mean to go on, I say. 2011 shall be a year of friends, pubs and some goddamn journalism.

And my new year's resolution? 920 x 1080


Eh, who am I kidding? I wouldn't keep it anyway.

Happy Friday everybody!

The majority of new years eve celebrations that I have attended have been family affairs, not always my family, but still a steady slope into drunkenness whilst the young teens get hyper from blue WKD and I gorge myself with Iceland party food. But this year, for the first time, I get to spend midnight with my best friends. Alas not my Lincoln ones though. (I have two groups of best friends, they only differ in my mind by geography)

I'm hosting a tiny gathering at my Mom's house (cause she's awesome like that) which shall be filled with drunken frivolity and fighting over who gets to sit in the beanbag.

Myself and Openshaw headed to Morrisons earlier to get the supply of alcohol (with a list of requests from people) and it was genuinely amusing to see how many peoples trolleys were full of alcohol. Not that our shopping was very classy.

omnomnom (note this is for more people than just me!)

Plastic cups and a plentiful supply of alcohol made it quite clear to the woman serving us how we intended to spend our evening. Ooh, that reminds me, I must find a pack of cards out.

So cheers, everybody. I hope you enjoy your new year's eve as must as I intend to, I hope over indulge and I hope you don't start 2011 with a raging hangover. Love you all.

I asked you to dance at the disco but you said no. Why did you do that, you heartless bitch?

If I were to time travel, after the inevitable sightseeing (Renaissance France, sightseeing from an airship, quick hello to Shakey etcetera) I would return to early 2000, kidnap Charlie Simpson, preventing him from ruining joining Busted and therefore putting Tom Fletcher in his place. Then everything would be well in the world. Busted would still be together, Matt Willis would have never been on I'm a celebrity, get me out of here and McFly would have never existed. Perfection!

Yes, if you hadn't noticed, I was listening to Busted earlier. Oh teenage nostalgia.

I do love that no matter how long it's been since I've last listening to Busted, I still adore them and I still know every lyric. AND THE SONG WAS CALLED CRASH AND BURN NOT YOU SAID NO!! Why did they break up?! Bloody Charlie I'm-in-a-crap-band-called-Fightstar Simpson. *ahem* I think I have some unresolved issues with Busted. Oh well.

I rather miss these boys. Not Charlie though. Bushy eyebrowed gitface.

However, during some casual Googling just I discovered this article. New Busted material?! Though with them being 27 I'm not sure they can cope with the boy/man band switcheroo. Also, when I read the words "it's quite 80s, quite synth-based" I worry. I am worried. But excited. Any excuse for me to see those lovely boys again.

Oh the early 2000s. *sigh*