Earlier this afternoon, I saw you fly through the air and land against a tree. Could you explain to me how this happened?

This was the first question my friend asked me on Saturday afternoon as he interviewed me for an independent radio station.

The flying through the air was the result of a hefty push from a friendly Forward Intelligence Officer who was trying to prevent me seeing why my friend was being arrested.

I was in London at the weekend for a DISARM DSEi public meeting. Defence Systems Equipment International is the world's largest arms fair and will be held at the ExCeL exhibition centre in East London from 11th-14th September 2007. As was explained by a sarcastic friend at the meeting, I'm the "person who's failed stopping DSEi for longer than any of us," which is sadly true having spent the last eight years of my life opposing this beast.

As is customary outside such meetings, there was a contingent from the Metropolitan Police's Forward Intelligence team outside the meeting. They claim they come to these meetings to gather intelligence, take photos and make notes of those attending. However their presence is purely intimidatory. They are trying to deter people from attending such meetings or protests.

Whilst we warn people attending meetings there might be a police presence, we have been ignoring them for years with nothing more than the occasional "fuck off" or giving the finger to the camera as we enter buildings. However my friend had decided she was fed up with it and wanted to do more.

She arrived with two signs saying "no to cameras" and "respect our privacy" on black card and she held these up to the camera, trying to prevent them from taking photos. She was not confrontational - simply held up the piece of paper and moved as the cameraman moved. She was joined by someone else who also helped. The cops didn't like this and were eventually forced into a situation where they had formed a line to protect their cameraman.

I asked my friend whether she was alright and went in to ULU as the meeting was starting. As I was waiting for the lift, I saw the cops move in to arrest the two of them. I ran over and tried to see what was going on and this was when I was pushed and flew through the air and landed in the tree.

Then everything went a bit surreal. There was a conflict resolution workshop going on at the same time as our meeting and suddenly all these conflict resolution people started shouting at the cops, telling them this was the sort of thing they were trying to sort out. One woman kept trying to pull me back, kept telling me I was getting hurt, and I kept trying to get her to back off.

However, unlike the last time a friend got nicked, I managed not to. A very small voice kept telling me I had to go the meeting. By this time at least half the meeting had made it down to the street after having witnessed the start of the incident from the third floor window.

We went back inside and started our meeting. However it was interesting because the act of confrontation, of having had a joint experience as a group made the meeting much stronger. People were much more vocal than they normally are at public meetings and it seemed a much stronger, cohesive meeting.

My friend was released at about half twelve and has been bailed to return on charges of Section 4 (public order act) and assault.

I was left thinking it was a really worthwhile action, something which we should definitely repeat. A lot of people remarked that they managed to get into the meeting without having their photos taken and it was good to challenge their right to be outside our meetings.

Totally brain dead

I've come to the conclusion I'm totally brain dead. I don't think I am capable of normal or even subnormal communication at the moment.

I've left this blog floating, in cyber space for longer than I meant and now I've got too much to catch up with. And it's the same as the dilemmas I used to face when I kept a daily diary - do I now spend my writing time catching up, or do I simply say where I am now? Really I should be in the moment, but given the moment is brain dead and I've had to force myself to type this, may past is better.

But I'm in avoidance mode either way. I don't want to write about how I feel. I feel shit, PMT is raging (and I wish for once in my life I'd remember to take Evening Primrose 'cos it does really help). We're into the petty details arguments couples have when they break up and I'm exhausted.

Jack was ill last week, so ill I ended up taking him to hospital at 11pm in paranoid mother mode. He woke up complaining of his neck hurting and the meningitis alarm bells rang. I got to the hospital and my friend was the doctor on call which was really lovely and made me feel lots better.

He's fine - he had a bad ear infection and his glands were up. And his been ill ever since. Today in fact is the first day he's seemed a lot better and should be able to go to nursery on Thursday. I finished my industry analysis whilst holding him, so I'm just praying it's good enough to pass. I'm not looking to do any more than that.

Talking of Jack, we've reached a milestone. He appears to be out of nappies. Just as I was beginning to doubt the non pressurised theory, he's done it. He hasn't worn a nappy for a week, day or night, and he's been completely dry.

And random things have occurred to me in the spirit of random things. I was buying a coffee in the Great Shakes place in town (good place if you want coffee up 'til 10pm) and they have 1p sweets. When I was a kid 1p sweets were half pence sweets, but considering the amount of inflation on everything else, 1p sweets seem to be a bargain. Although shows how cheap they are to make.

Trying to pinpoint a feeling

Drunken ramblings

This should be my guilt free night, but I still feel guilty. There's always guilt when you're a parent, certainly if you're a mother.

It's 1am, seagulls squarking and the faint rumble of cars penetrate the silence. No snuffling presences upstairs. Just me. Alone. In my house. And I haven't spent a night alone in years and I can't quite work out whether I love it or hate it. All I know is it's going to be a regular experience. I've never lived alone. I've always had partners, and whilst there were obviously nights we spent apart, I don't remember ever feeling single.

And it's a weird kind of loneliness. Evidence of Jack is everywhere. I'm sitting here writing this wrapped up in his scoobie doo blanket, staring at the beautiful pictures he's made me at nursery. I hope he's okay and having a good night with Barbara. His little world is very confused at the moment. He'll be resillent. Kids re. But I'm sad; sad I' chipping away at his ideal, at his iage of a perfect world. Because however niave it is, I want my beautiful boy to have a perfect world. He doesn't deserve anything less.

But the world we've been giving him is far from ideal. And we need to be happy in order to create a happy environent in which to raise him.

And maybe part of y proble is I'm still clinging to my ideal, y perfect vision of a happy couple bringing up a happy, healthy kid. I'm clinging to the relationship we had four years ago, when we wanted to bring a child into this world.

I cannot imagine what my life would be like now if I hadn't had Jack. My honest suspicion is I would have done something big, inevitably been caught and would now be in prison. Whatever it would have been, I can't imagine I would have left London, let alone be on this course in Falmouth, sitting here writing this. I certainly wouldn't have had the scoobie doo blanket.

I feel a great distance from reality at the moment. It is the only way I can cope. I've been joking about how I've pencilled in my breakdown for mid September. I'll get through everything until after DSEi, and then I'll collapse. Hopefully I'll get that far and I'm pretty sure there'll be some major hiccups along the way.

I Predict A Riot

Walking to collect Jack from nursery today, my i-pod randomly played "I predict a riot" and I was taken back to the Stirling anti G8 camp a couple of years ago. The night before the Stirling riots, it was pumped out of the music tent at full blast. Now I think of all those people shouting along with the lyrics and think they probably weren't the ones out confronting the police at 5am. They were the ones who consumed too much drink, too many drugs and were comatose by morning.

Having said this, music has been iconic on quite a few protests, in an almost cliched manner. Chumbawamba's "Tubthumping" was blaring out of the sound system atop a pick-up truck as the tear gas poured in at Genoa. Progidy's "Fuck 'em and their law"greeted the riot police from the multicoloured scaffolding tower on Claremont Road.

In other news, I've been working on my sample spreads for my non fiction book. I then got carried away and made them into a little sample book which I don't think I was meant to do, but enjoyed - sad really. Hardcore anarchist makes little sample book shock horror!

I've done no work on my novel or my industry analysis. Tomorrow I must, must, must try and get something done.

Busted and banned, single and sad

I haven't written all week, haven't been able to face the keyboard, haven't been able to face the reality of words.

My relationship has gone into total meltdown and I'm grieving for what we once had. I think of my beautiful boy and how this is tearing his little world apart and it breaks my heart. But what am I supposed to do? Neither of us can stay in this loveless, sexless relationship. Hopefully we will all be happier in the long run, but it doesn't feel like it at the moment.

No one else has blogged about what happened last week, so in order to protect the guilty, I will leave out all names.

Last Saturday I went out for the night. It's not something I get to do very often with a three year old, so I was really looking forward to it. And for the most part it was a lovely night and I got very drunk.

We went to a club to dance to crappy music and to shout at each other over expensive pints. My friend and I got involved in what we perceived to be a racial incident and I got thrown across the club. I was then threatened by a woman who told me I didn't know what was really going on and backed off as I was drunk and didn't know the full story.

We stayed until closing time, and on the way home, came across several police cars. My friend was bet £10 that she wouldn't run over the top of the car. This was the red rag to the bull and she gladly took them up on the generous offer. However as she got down, she was told she was nicked and was led off to a police car.

Now, where I come from, you can't watch a friend get nicked and not do anything. So myself and her partner argued. We pointed to the top of the car and asked to be shown the damage she had caused. I swore more often than I would normally have done sober, but all I was doing was questionning the legality of the arrest.

We had our argument, realised we were getting nowhere and turned to leave. I made one last parting comment about the whole thing being "fucking ridiculous" and that was it. It was one comment too far and I suddenly found myself, once again, face down on the pavement.

A random, fat, bald man, who'd been itching to get involved, helped arrest me. The first time I've ever had a random civilian help arrest me. Afterwards, I've been told, he also assaulted my friend.

We got taken to a deserted Falmouth police station. I was put in an interview room and told they were going to deal with us by way of fixed penalty notices, but we had to come back the next day as they couldn't issue them when we were drunk.

So, less than an hour after arrest, we were back with our friends, which was quite a result given they were threatening to take us to Camborne.

Two days later, I received a letter in the post telling me I had an interim "pubwatch" ban, giving a long list of places I couldn't go and saying I could make written representations for their next meeting. Helpfully, there was no date given for their next meeting.

Then yesterday, I received a letter telling me they'd had their meeting and had unanimously decided to ban me for three months. My friend has received no such ban, so I can only presume mine is due to my long record and a police file that screams troublemaker.

And I really wish I could see the funny side, but I can't. I just feel victimised. The list includes places I take Jack for coffee and food and it just means more hassle. I plan to ignore it, but I can't risk ignoring it when I'm with Jack. I'm going to appeal but I don't fancy my chances if I'm honest. I'm also contesting the drunk and disorderly charge, both as a point of principle and because I want to know who the bald fucker was who's fucked up my wrist.

So now I'm feeling shaky and sad. Sad because of my relationship breakdown, shacky becuase Falmouth was my safe space. I came to Falmouth becuse I wanted to get away from police harassment, get away from the assaults and arrests. And now I'm feeling like it might be starting all over again. Being known as a troublemaker in a small town can never be good.