Having spent a good couple of hours contemplating death and double suicide in the library, to get me in the right frame of mind to read Romeo and Juliet, of course...I was pretty shocked to see a group of people huddled on the road of a busy roundabout on my way home. My overactive imagination of mass suicide was quickly ruled out when I saw a man sprawled on his back and a motorbike in the middle of the roundabout. Of course I don't know what was happening but it seemed weird to see the people crowding over him but not doing very much and the traffic carrying on around them like nothing was happening.

Since I would be of no additional help, I carried on walking home, and stopped at the traffic lights as two cars ran through red lights before a dad-a-likey slowed to let me pass as the green man was starting to fade.

All along the busy roads in Birmingham you see bunches of wilting flowers tied to trees and railing and lamposts and you just drive past thinking briefly of the tragedy of another faceless victim. People seem to have become desensitised to roadside deaths. The only time it ever seems to come into debate is over traffic jams or speed cameras. I've heard the argument that speed cameras are just a money making scheme, but surely if you didn't speed in the first place then you wouldn't have to pay the fine. There's the other argument that drivers will only slow down when they're in view of the evil yellow box and speed up again when they're not being watched. I am shocked that some drivers do not understand the purpose of speed cameras. They are not to catch you out, you're not that attractive that the DVLA want a photo of your shiny backside, they are there to keep the roads safe and the pedestrians off the hospital bed.

I'm thankful I have so far avoided a road accident and I hope that I will avoid them forever, although I have been very close on many times in the past. MY thoughts are with the mystery motorcyclist and the hundreds of people hurt in road accidents every year.

T'is the season to be jolly...

I have been seeing Christmas decorations in shops and pubs and restaurants and every other speakable place for at least the past month. But last weekend, I heard my first Christmas song played over the music system in a shop. My first reaction was, ugh...they bring all this stuff out earlier and earlier every year. Then i realised...in actual fact, it's not THAT far away till Jesus' 2006th birthday.

This year, Christmas has definitely creeped up on me. What happened to the festive cheer that would excite my senses several months prematurely?
I remember at primary school, there would be a week when everyone was allowed to bring in your own tinsel, paperchains, baubles and any manner of shiny things to decorate the classroom and it would stay like that until January. Although I'm sure it made teaching very difficult, peering over the 2ft Christmas tree balanced between our exercise books, the teachers more than tolerated it. I'm pretty sure they got as much of a kick out of it as we did.
I remember the big cardboard postbox stationed in the assembly hall where you could post Christmas cards to your friends and receive them the next day. The number of cards you had lined up on your desk soon became a popularity contest as well as a never-ending struggle not to be distracted from your long division by the pretty glitter and heart-glowingly sincere rhymes inside.

As I progressed to secondary school, Christmas became all about worrying which of my friends to buy Christmas presents for. On my meagre allowance, I couldn't afford to get everyone a diamond encrusted, solid 24carat gift and with varying degrees of friendship, it was a balancing act of not offending people and not killing the bank account. Christmas was now all about impressing people with what was under that Winnie the Pooh wrapping paper. Whilst everyone got pretty little trinkets and windchimes and the like, it didn't really mean anything. These gifts were given for the sake of Christmas rather than to welcome in the festive season.

These days you always hear rants that Christmas has become a commercialised money-making opportunity. When you see the number of new toys and very useful electrical appliances that suddenly spring up at the appropriate season, you may be excused for thinking that. For me, Christmas isn't about the presents. I wouldn't be distraught if Santa didn't leave me that dress I saw in the catalogue in my size and my colour. To me, Christmas is about the dining room table groaning under the weight of far too much food that still manages to be polished off by the end of the night, the sound of pulling crackers and bad jokes, chestnuts roasting on an open fire, and all that jazz.

I guess I answered my own question. My festive cheer is hidden in my childhood where all I really needed was a bits of shiny paper, the warm fuzzy feeling inside from family dinners or maybe a bit too much winter warmer, and all-nighter games of monopoly with my cousins. So, hold on to your Santa hats, holidays are comin'...

Today walking home from a day at uni, I found myself suddenly walking faster and faster. No I wasn't late, no it wasn't dark. It was purely because I could hear footsteps of a man walking close behind me.

I know it would be naive to think that the streets of Birmingham are candy-coated and smelling of daisies but I couldn't help feeling incredibly stupid when the man carried on along the main road as I turned off on to my road. I remember in the first term of first year, I frequently took taxis home alone at ungodly hours, not batting an eyelid as I stepped into the pre-ordered cab and calling out a cheery hello to the driver.

Maybe it was because of my parents' anxious warnings since I moved away to far away university of rapists, guns, drugs, muggings and worse that I developed this perhaps unwarrented fear of solitude. Maybe it is because I hear story after story of murderers, kidnappers and general madmen in local and national news. Either way, I can't help but pick up my pace when I walk past lone walkers on desserted roads. I don't make eye contact with other people as I cross paths with them once the sun sets.

I laugh at myself for my distrust sometimes. One night-time visit to a friend's house made my heart race just 5 minutes into my journey as I saw the approaching figure of a hooded heavy-set man. Imagine my horror as he raised his head and looked straight at me. Clenching my fists in anticipation, I hear him saying in a broad Brummie accent, "watch out for the patch of ice at the bottom of the road, it's really slippy." All I could do was utter a thanks as I exhaled with relief. I was sure to tiptoe around the ice when I came to it.

Call it caution or paranoia...there's a phrase, better safe than sorry. I guess I just gotta find a balance between carelessness and borderline hermitage - it would probably do my blood pressure some good!

Memories.
Last weekend, I found myself trawling through old family photo albums. With each turn of a page, I was greeted with black and white, grainy images of my father grinning broadly, arm around my mother; or big brown baby eyes peeping from under those fetching bowl haircuts my brother was subjected to as a child; or a perfectly poised picture of my sister being rudely interrupted with my cheeky grin in the corner of the photo. Either way, there were album after dusty album of these photos that stop suddenly around 10 years ago. At this point, I became painfully aware that we rarely take photos together as a family anymore.

Tapping away on my laptop, I am also aware of the hard disk embedded somewhere under the keyboard, filled with photos of my friends, acquaintances, the dinners we ate. Are these my new family members? I spend so much time with my friends that I miss them when I go home, whereas I am ashamed to say I don't really miss my family when I'm away from them.

Right now I'm feeling terribly nostalgic. In the middle of my studenthood, I should be living for the here and now. I have the security of structure, providing I keep doing things right, I should be allowed the chug along with the rest of them. But this year feels like a year of change. I'm used to everyone moving at the same pace as me. Here, people are moving on, up, out and all in different directions. I want to scream "STOP!" and for everthing to go in slow-mo...just for long enough for me to catch up, just for long enough for me to see everything, record everything in the camera in my head, just for long enough for me to fill my photo albums.

Haha...it didn't work...things don't go in slow-mo for little old me. Guess I'm just going to have to speed myself up instead. Spend more time with my family. Take my camera everywhere. I want a shelf full of album after dusty album too.

My first post! Meant to rekindle my love for writing, my friend advised I dust off the cobwebs and start writing again. That makes it sound like it's been centuries or something! Guess in relative terms it's not been that long but it feels an eternity for me. I'm used to writing regularly, kept me partly sane and reassured myself that I was almost coherent.

Was recently browsing a forum and came across a heated debate on religion. On one side, this guy was adament that religion had no place in the modern world and had been rendered obselete by science. On the other side, there were some Christians who, understandably, were outraged by the first guy. One reply argued that the Bible was as accurate as a science book because the ordinary person trusts a textbook absolutely without questioning whether the "facts and formulae" were true.

At a superficial level, I can see where the Christian is coming from...how many of us actually check those calculations we see quoted in news reports? We see lots of important looking numbers and symbols and all nod in agreement. But...someone is checking these facts out, and science has explained many of the phenomenon of this world. Saying that a god made people how they are now seems totally ridiculous in today's world compared to Darwin and his theory of evolution.

I guess it all depends how you interpret religious parables. You can really believe that Jesus walked on water and dragons and unicorns wandered the land together if you want...or you can see the battle of David and Golioath as a battle of morals. In my opinion, Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism...whatever you believe in...it's just a way of teaching people morals. allegories to guide people. At the end of the day, all religions preach along the same fundamental lines: treat others as you wish to be treated, have respect and love for one another. I don't have any problem with religion. But non-religious people shouldn't be labelled as immoral. I've been brought up without a religion and I seem ok...in my opinion...