Which is about bombs, Guildford and two chance encounters.

As you are all no doubt aware, Thursday saw some scary stuff. Four bombs; three on the underground and one on the no. 30 bus. I heard all this when I was at school, and it terrified me; my sister works there. So I got home as quickly as possible, praying like crazy that she would be ok. I got in to find a message on the answerphone, "Don't worry, I'm fine..." I missed the rest, I was just so relieved to hear those words. "I'm fine"; thank God. Then mum came in the door telling me that my sister and my aunt were both ok. It's near enough to a miracle; my sister was ill that morning, otherwise she might have been there. It's a scary thought. And my aunt, Sarah, goes that way most days; about one day a fortnight she doesn't take that route, and thank God that was Thursday. That left me pretty rattled. I still can't believe it. Most importantly, I can't think of who did it. I'm treating it in my mind like a natural disaster, like the tsunami; something you can't hate and can't get angry at. I just can't begin to understand people doing this; it doesn't make sense.

Friday was interesting too. I was going to go midnight shopping, but it never happened; instead we just hung around outside Bogeys talking to people and trying to make decisions. I mentioned my stress the previous day over my sister, and the guy I was talking to (Rob) said "Who, Naomi?" I said "Yeah, ... hang on..." and then I said the words I've said so many times: "How do you know my sister?" Turns out they knew each other at school, and worked together on Romeo and Juliet. I remember seeing that; he was Parras. I was 13 at the time. Dude, that's trippy.

Saturday, we went to Guildford. Hoorah! Sunny and exotic Guildford! That's what I always call it when other people are talking about what Caribbean islands they've been to. They think I'm kidding. But seriously, once again the weather was utterly perfect for us, sunshine all weekend. Anyway, we were there for my aunt's (Rebecca this time) birthday party. It was brilliant! We played an embarrasing game called musical newspaper, which is great fun. When the music stops you have to stand on scraps of newspaper that get smaller each time... it's difficult to remain aloof when you're clinging on to a random stranger's waist for support. And the music
was brilliant; we were dancing for hours, utterly crazy stuff. And our new uncle Hugh (11 months now, but he's still the newest one we've got) was breakdancing truly brilliantly. I swear, I still don't know how it's physically possible to jump in slow motion, but he did it. And he sang to Rebecca. Ahhhhhh.

The next day is today; we went to their church (which I nearly fell asleep in repeatedly), then it was a few more hours at Rebs and Hugh's place, then we went home. Oh, and I told Naomi about Rob. She told me... some stuff... and to say hi. On the ferry home, my imagination was doing the strange. I was doing "what-ifs" in my head, including what if Matt was on this boat? I knew he was coming back to the island any day now. But that was a one in a hundred chance, so I didn't pursue that too far.

Then I saw somebody who looked like Matt's brother Jonathan. My train of thought went as follows:
Hey, he looks like Jonathan.
What would he be doing here? Can't be.
That looks like Mr. Reading.
And that, as far as I can remember, looks like their mum.It's definitely them.Therefore, that is the back of Matt's head.
Help. What do I do?!

I have heard that "what-ifs" are meant to prepare us for stuff that might happen, but it all seemed a bit far-fetched. Well, there ya go. It was nice to have a quick chat with him, anyway.

But anyway, I have been in so many situations like that that just make the world feel so tiny. Everybody knows everybody else! I can't meet one random person (i.e. Rob) without there being at least one connection to somebody else I know.I should be used to it by now, really.

Also, I can't believe I fancy a guy who was in school with my sister and has a kid.

TODAY'S WISDOM: The problem nowadays is that if you tell somebody that television rots their brain, they'll say "You know, you're right!" and then they'll change the channel.