Today...

Today is one of those days where, 90’s music is just what you want to hear.

Where snowball fights make life worth while.

Where doing an interpretive dances are the ONLY dances that are accepted.

Where heartbreaks aren’t in your mind, and your heart if full of joy.

Where seeing your friends fall to the ground makes you nearly pee your pants.

Where other people’s opinions don’t matter, because you are with the people who love you for your imperfections.

Where the coffee you had, doesn’t seem to be the reason for your hyperness.

Where tackling someone seems to be the cool way to greet someone.

And where you thank God for giving you this day.

Well for the rest of you suckers you will be attending school for the most of December but I will be gone...would you like to you know where?

IRELAND and the CANARY ISLANDS!!!!

Yeah that's right, you're jealous...hehe.

Catherine

For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That freas his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,--
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick, and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,--
Be in their flowing cups, freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispan Crispian shall ne'er so vile,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered,--
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England no a-bed
Shall think themselves accusrt they were not here
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

I just love Shakespeare!!!!