A long weekend - nearly over!

I'm tapping this entry in mum and dad's dining room just prior to leaving for home via Abergavenny, where mum has a craft market this morning.

It's been a hectic weekend, but a good one. Saturday evening we went down to my aunt and uncle's sprawling farmhouse in Pembrokeshire for the belated 21st birthday celebration for my cousin - El Presidente at Exeter University from July. We - mum, dad, Lou, Toni and I - joined Nanna in representing Auntie Sherrie's side of the family. Saturday evening was marked by the first episode in the new Doctor Who series. It was good fun, but like many of Russell T Davis' episodes seemed to lack something. A shame, because he is the man responsible for this next generation of Who. Solid ratings - 8.3m - saw it win the Saturday night ratings battle and were 1m up on the same episode shown last year (which was the sixth in that season's run, proving how late this season has been in coming).

Easter Sunday saw Toni and I join the "kids" - ranging in age from 12 to 24 - in the easter hunt. In fact, most of the weekend was spent sitting with the "other" children while being painfully aware of my own age - 33 if you need reminding. I wonder if this confusing situation contributed to the many memories I've been feeling this weekend as I struggle to reconcile who I am with what I'm feeling and whether I am actually 33 or still 16. In some ways, heading back to Essex will help me regain my adulthood, for whatever that's worth!

Easter Sunday also saw the wheels come firmly off Blues' survival bandwagon. A 3-1 defeat at Villa - God it meant so much to them; I even received an email from one who must have gone out of his way to track down my Celebrity Blues site and click the link to mail me! - rubber stamps our relegation. Unfortunately the chairman is going to blame the players and not the manager, so it looks like Steve Bruce and all his painfully obvious shortcomings are going to be at the club next season. Still, away trips to Ipswich, Norwich and almost certainly Southend will be in order.

It was good seeing everyone again - just a shame we weren't there for longer - but the raked ashes of my past and all the old photos I've been looking at make me want to write my own autobiography. Not because I think it's in any way interesting to anyone else (please send all lucrative offers of publishing to...), but because I'd like to make a note of my memories while I can still remember them! Bimey, does that mean I'm getting old?