My Grams did her usual... *cough cough* 'i feel too ill to go outside today' shiz, so the plans changed ever so slightly.

Instead i decided to be impulsive and rushed to Argos on a sunday evening to buy a tent and supplies and took off for London to collect my cousin Elisha, with Lewis in tow of course.

My first time on the motorway...hmmm well...the torrential rain started the minute i tryed to join the M25...which actually seriously terrified me at first, it was so hard to see, like unbelievably hard...but i got through it with the aid of my sat nav and a calm demeanor.

So i carried on after the down poar to collect Elisha, drove in London for the first time...which was only difficult in the sense that there seemed to be a speed camera every 20ft or so, and i'm still half paranoid i may have got caught speeding, considering it took me a while to realise there were so many around!

After London we drove on to a camp site on a farm in Newbury, we didn't arrive until 10pm and it was STILL raining (typical english weather)...camping was an experience, that's for sure, and not one i'd willingly repeat.

It was cold and wet and camping under the trees only intensified the sound of the rain so normal splatters became enormous splodges.

The tent was definately not water proof and we'd somehow set it up on a slope so the blood constantly rushed to our heads as we tried to sleep.

I woke up around 4.30am to the sound of bird's singing. Normally, at home wrapped in my duvet with the window wide open and the sun peeping through my blind, this wouldn't bother me.

But after a cold, wet and extremely uncomfortable night's sleep i was distinctly ruffled and disliked the feeling of rising in the world's noisiest aviary. Especially when i'd set my alarm for 8.30am!

It seemed i wasn't the only one though. While my brother slept soundly in his tent with the crazy puppy, my cousin beside me had just about had enough too.

We crawled out onto the wet field and ran bare foot in our jammys across it in search of the loos.

That done, we decided the only sane course of action would be to down some ibuprofen, drag everything out of our tent into the boot and snuggle in our sleeping bags in the car instead.

I actually did get afew good hours sleep stretched out (or as stretched out as a 5ft9 person can be in the back of a citroen c3) and when my brother finally woke up, the hot showers on site were a blessing.

We proceeded to drive to the nearest tescos (thank goodness for google and sat nav) where we stocked up on all sorts of sugary goodness before driving onwards to see the Stonehenge.

It was pretty awesome, very beautiful, and even though i probably wouldn't bother driving all that distance again just to see it, it was definately worth it.

After our audio tours we then drove on to Longleat Safari Park where we deposited the puppy in their kennels and drove around the park (at this point i wasn't even worried about driving next to animals - hell i'd already tackled London and the Motorways, what's a rhino or two?) which was pretty fun all told.

Me and Elisha bought this feed they had for deer's and pulled over to feed them out of the palms of our hands - so bizarre...and a little smelly and scary but very worth the experience. They were so gentle...except the couple that started fighting right next to my window...jeesh, respect the car please!

When we hit the last enclosure, the Wolves, they happened to be the most active animals we'd seen yet. They were hauling half a cow around (well that's what it looked like anyway) and fighting and all of a sudden they stopped everything and took up howling....we got to see a real wolf pack howling...how amazing is that?!

We then drove back to London to have dinner at my auntie's house and i got to spend some time with them which was lovely. I miss my family sometimes.

My Grams (the gossip queen and hypochondriac of the family) had been ringing my auntie worrying about my ability to drive such a distance with two teenagers...i mean really, what does she think i'm going to do?!

So we decided to play a joke on her, pretty cruel but oh so funny.

My auntie cooly rang her pretending my car had been hijacked with the puppy and my cousin still inside while the rest of us barely contained our mirth.

My Grams, as gullable as she is, totally believed her...so we rang my Ma to warn her...as that's usually my Gram's first move, to let EVERYONE know and left her to stew for a while.

After about half an hour i took mercy and rang her to let her in on the joke, when i tried to contain my laughter and absolutely failed, she thought i was crying instead...jeesh.

The drive home though was torturous, i'd started to feel ill, my throat was on fire and i felt dizzy with sleeplessness.

We got here eventually though and i threw myself into bed for a long comfortable sleep...or as comfortable as you can get when one minute you're like a furnace and the next you're shivering...all at the same time on different parts of your body.

So i've taken a few days off work, i feel better now, not so ill or morbid.

When i'm physically weak i tend to become emotionally weak, or rather i tend to know exactly how i'm feeling and it's never good.

I'm also covered in about 20 insect bites - nothing worse than a sick depressed itchy person i always think.

The cat somehow managed to get trapped in my car for 24 hours...but she seems fine now.

The tent will be returned to Argos when i can be bothered to go back there and argue my case...especially as i have no reciept...god damn me and my tidying up.

I actually got out of bed and showered today and spent some time outside of my bedroom...now i just feel sort of lost rather than depressed.

Like i don't quite know what to do with myself but i'm disappointed with myself that i'm not doing something too.

I re-read The Mortal Instrument series by Cassandra Clare the past few days - i'd forgotten how much i love those books.

Now i'm lounging in my room again, only the window's wide open and i can smell the flowers from the front garden wafting up with the breeze. It's lovely.

I love my sense of smell. I think it's probably one of my favourite senses.

It's usually what attracts me to a person or a place. It's usually what triggers my memories too.

I saw there's a Linkin Park concert at the o2 on the day i plan on coming back from Morocco and i'll be damned if i'm going to miss the opportunity to see my favourite band.

Lynn's booking the day off and my flight should land around 4pm in Gatwick, which gives me two and a half hours to get into central London and store my bag at someone's before getting ready for the concert - oh yeah i'm definately doing this.

As soon as my refund from Thomson hits my account i'm buying those tickets - which had better be tomorrow or they're getting more than an ear full off me.

So i guess i have a lot to look forward to...as always.

I'm just still doing the whole disappointed with everyone but not as disappointed as i am with myself thing.

It's like a constant companion, you know, instead of a good angel on one shoulder and a bad on the other i just have two fairly bad ones who sometimes get good days, but never at the same time.

Anyways, my Ma wants to book a holiday and my laptop seems to be the only way she can so i gotta dash. Though i'm starting to get used to spilling my guts on this thing. It's comforting and i think it helps, in some round about way, so maybe i'll be back for more later.