Something like the second sentence that my mum said to me when I finally got back home to Southport on Friday night, after the long day at work and the three hour train journey in true Virgin trains comfort (complete with complementary drunk bloke singing loudly from Crewe – and nearly-as-drunk scouser telling him (almost) to “calm down”), was “we’ve got a bit of a surprise for you…”

I knew what she meant as soon as she said it – they’ve been threatening to do it for a while now. Then she took me upstairs to what used to be my bedroom to show me how they had completely redecorated my room without telling me!

It could be worse, I suppose, they could have thrown all my stuff out (see March 2, 2003 entry towards the bottom).

And don’t get me wrong, it does look very nice now, it’s just not “my” room any more. It felt like I was staying in the guest room. Oh well, there goes my childhood. Ripped out and replaced for a very reasonable price at IKEA.

The rest of the weekend was very nice though. Popped into Liverpool briefly, got slightly sunburnt, ate extensively, avoided both Big Brother and the Eurovision nul points incident, and returned to London more tired than I left.