I don't think I've ever said or written the word 'balloon' so many times.

So, I've decided that my time in Cornwall has come to an end and the decision feels like a weight has been lifted.

I had been thinking that I wanted to stay down here to get on with my novel, get a job and avoid any distractions since I don't know as many people down here as I did when the course was in full swing. And, for a couple of months, I've done exactly that, getting on with work while looking for a job to tide me over financially. Then writer's block kicked in last week and I think something snapped inside me, so I fled back to Bristol. Coming back to Falmouth, I've realised there's not much keeping me here and have decided that I'll move back. I know it means I'll have to be more self-disciplined with my novel, but that's fine. I think I need more of a balanced life.

Anyway, that's that. This week has been pretty good. I've practically finished Chapter Seven now, and I'm really pleased in how both the story and characters are developing. I now have about 30,000 words that I'm happy with after correcting things like passive sentences and incorrect usage of colons (the punctuation, not body part). I've been delaying a scene I know will be a sod to write, but am going to bite the bullet and start it tonight. I think I'm just worried about it because it's the first time the three main characters are together in the same place and I don't know yet whose point of view I will favour. I guess I'll just take a deep breath and get on with it and just see what happens. Whoop!

Other than that, my week has been pretty non-eventful. I had a great time back in Bristol and went out last night to an Amnesty International 'do' with David and Toni, which was more fun that it sounds. It was all done to raise awareness of prisoners of conscience and the recent Burma protests. It was pretty enlightening.

Oh, and there was a buffet there and it made me think that there are probably etiquette rules to such things. Whenever I go along somewhere where there's a buffet, I always feel really anxious that someone's watching me and thinking, 'He's had four lots of Doritos' or whatever. I think I try and overcompensate for this by making sure I take some celery sticks or something healthy to balance out the amount of junk I've eaten. I wonder as well, how many trips to the food table is too many? And is anyone in charge of it? Ugh, that would be horrible to be gripped by the wrist on your seventh visit and be told, 'I think you've had more than your fair share.'

Also, a definite no-no in buffet etiquette has to be taking the bowl/plate of whatever and sitting with it in your lap, denying anyone else access. I think that's guaranteed to piss people off.

Right, I'm digressing, I was going to write about the Amnesty event. So, I was talking to this guy who had an origami lotus flower in his hand and asked what it was all about. He told me about this form of meditation in China that became so powerful that the government had the man who created it executed. I probably wasn't listening properly, because I said, 'For making those flowers?' The guy looked at me like I was a knob and said, 'No, for the meditation.' 'Oh.' Then I shuffled over to the information stall and picked up a leaflet.

Since I went over with David and Toni, Kumali, their three year old, came too and she's so cute. She had this big yellow balloon that she was playing with the whole time and at one point I was sitting beside her while she swung it about. It kept hitting people and so I said, 'I wouldn't swing it around so much, Kumali.' Then fibbed a bit and said, 'It might burst.' No sooner had the words left my mouth than BANG and she looked at it for a mournful moment before smiling at me. Sadist. That poor balloon had a rough ride.

I remember I was at a guy that I used to work with's leaving do last year and my friend's son was doing that really annoying thing of rubbbing his fingers up and down a ballon so it made a horrible noise. This was when he wasn't hitting me on the head with it. Anyway, my friend said to him, 'Stop worrying that balloon,' which seemed a really bizarre way of wording it. I can't imagine the balloon was happy, but worried? Surely not. It didn't burst anyway, so that's something. That was probably it's main concern all along.

I just read what I've written and I don't think I've ever said or written the word 'balloon' so many times. And I never will again. Who knows?

Right, on that note, I'm going to eat something. Something that's not in a party ring or sausage roll.

xx