MIRACLE AT 34,000 FEET

On Thursday evening I flew from London to Cork, Ireland. This journey used to be full of happiness. It brings back memories of summer holidays spent on beaches, which, without wanting to sound like Visit Ireland are the most beautiful I have ever visited and visiting what seemed like endless family and always being offered a strong cup of Barry's tea and a slice of cake (ah go on, go on, go on), you know the drill. The weather used to be beautiful too, or maybe that is my memory looking at everything through rose-tinted glasses. This flight was different, however, it has now come to that time when I visit Ireland more frequently for funerals than holidays. Naturally I wasn't in the happiest of moods on the flight and quickly settled into the stack of magazines and books I had to read, I always forget the flight is only an hour. Just as the pilot turned the fasten seatbelt sign back on, the plane banked left and and although it was pitch black in my mind I got the view I was so used to seeing as a child. The beauty of Cork harbour, row upon row of brightly coloured houses in Cobh, sailing boats heading out into the Atlantic and onwards to the city and the towers of St Finbarr's Cathedral from which my confirmation name is taken and my favourite sight of all. It was upon remembering this that a sudden mood change came over me. I realised as I gazed down on the city so small below me me and the lights twinkling along the River Lee that we ourselves are so small and yet so great at the same time. Looking down on Cork Harbour, which I believe is the largest harbour in the world bar Sydney, I was surprised to find myself marvelling at humanity's beauty. If we as humans can build such beautiful buildings and create such amazing places that I find the harbour only as breathtaking then we must be doing something right. The most important thing is that we make our mark whilst we have the chance. Landing in Cork I had a completely different view on the funeral I was to attend the following day. Yes it was to be a sad occasion but also a day of joy, remembering a loved member of our family and celebrating the mark we make with just the second we have on earth.

The First X Factor Post! Hello Christmas!

Now, I appreciate that as soon as you read the sentence you are (hopefully) about to read you may just stop reading altogether but bear with it. Watch last Saturday's X Factor. There I said it. Television snobs turn your noses up at me all you like but the latest episode of my staple Autumn/Winter programme was a classic. I love X Factor and am not ashamed to say it. I may not buy into the 'reality' of it all and can sense some truth in the fixing rumours surrounding the show but I know one thing for sure: the programme is hilarious. I was actually out last Saturday night with a friend but managed to catch one of the 50 repeats ITV manages to splatter gun their weekly schedule with when we got in. My friend, Lucy, hates X Factor but being the amazing friend she is agreed to sit down with me, cups of tea and lemon curd sandwiches to feast on the brashness of X Factor. Within 5 minutes she was laughing along with me as contestant after contestant got their 'dreams shattered' by the judges. The best part of the whole show, however, didn't come until halfway through when the one and only Mel B appeared as the first guest judge of the series. Every word that woman uttered was pure gold. For the rest of the episode normal order was forgotten. The television was ignored until Scary Spice spoke, her words flowing over Lucy and I and turning us in to 'Melanators'. For hours after I only spoke like Mel B. We imagined that she only spoke in the third person. "Melanie B never says yes, people only say yes to Melanie B" we shouted in our best Leeds accents. Her honesty on X Factor and unwillingness to say yes to mediocre acts just because they had 'something about them' showed what X Factor has been lacking for the past couple of years. We need Mel B to bring back the glory days of Sharon, Cheryl, Louis and nasty Simon. I want the days back when a national scandal would be made out of Sharon throwing water over Simon! So X Factor's school report thus far reads: 'Must try harder'