We few, we happy few...

I've noticed over the past couple of months how your bedroom can tell the story of your life. I first realised this when I returned home from university, and tried desperately to cram all of my new belongings back into my tiny box room in my parents' house. Needless to say, I've still not been completely successful in that task, but as I filled every surface with old and new tophies and medals, certificates, books, DVDs and CDs, I saw how every chapter of my life was represented in some way.

The pictures which grace my walls date back to the year 10 residential trip to France, whilst the new editions to my shelves include various different graduation bears. I don't think there is a section of my life so far that isn't documented in those four walls.

This idea hit home even more, and in a very different way, when my parents recieved a new painting to go on the living room wall. The painting is entitled "Band of Brothers", and I'm told that the Shakespeare reference is intentional. It's a painting of my father and his three best friends, one of which, let's just say, is rather ill.

It's a sobering thought to have this particular part of our lives documented, but an important one, nonetheless.

"We few, we happy few
We band of brothers."

- William Shakespeare.

Much Love.
CC.

Jack-in-a-Box

It's weird how you think you know that you're not going to cry. But then an older relative, her husband, breaks down at the front of the church, and you wonder how you ever thought that you'd remain stony faced at all.

It was the funeral of my great aunty this morning. For about seven years, I hadn't had much contact with her. I occaisionally saw her in the street when I was back from uni, but she wouldn't always recognise me, or she'd at least get me confused with my cousin. It was for these reasons that I was convinced that I wouldn't cry today. Instead, I'd be a rock for my mum, who was sure to end up rather teary eyed.

Instead, when I saw my great uncle burst into tears a couple of rows in front of me, and his son (my idol) follow suit, my eyes began to well up. A beautiful ceremony for such a vibrant, wonderful woman.

On the world news front, I caught Granada Reports as a spent the afternoon chatting in the pub with my Dad and his friends, and I was horrified to hear about the "Burn a Koran Day" which some horrifying people wanted to hold tomorrow. Not only is it wrong on so many levels, but I cannot understand what they think it could possibly achieve, other than yet another Holy war, which is the last thing that this planet needs. Some people...

I have made it to the next round of my interview process! Yayness! With that huge Ego boost in mind, I was planning on getting a lot of writing done today, but I appear to have developed a cold overnight, so I didn't get much sleep due to a lack of the ability to breathe. In addition to that, I'm finding it rather difficult to look at the screen of my laptop through bleary eyes :(

Again I say... Meh.

CC.