I'm back, did you miss me?... don't answer that...

Apparently I'm jewish. 

No I've never been to a synagogue (I just had to spell check the word), practiced judaism, experienced the delights of 8 days of presents on Hanukah or even been lavished in the attention only a Bat Mitzvah could bestow. However thanks to my ancestry I haven't been able to escape the traits so wonderfully endowed within the Jewish community. No I'm not necessarily talking about my excessive amounts of hair - this I very well could have inherited from my mums side - I'd just like to take this moment to thank all the Maltese in my family that made combing my arm hairs a possibility, it has provided both my fiends and I hours of entertainment. 

Nor is it the fact I like to crack a joke - I could very well attribute that to being around my dad and his brothers who enjoy continually one upping each other into fits of hilarity or even my love and consequent study of Stand up Comedy. I could even pass off my utter lack of co-ordination in any activity that involves a more complicated sequence of movement than putting one foot steadily after the other as bad luck. Or an un-explainable need to save money as pure good sense. No all this doesn't prove anything, I know… So what, I can hear you asking, makes me think I have seemingly un-avoided my heritage?… well the answer is plain and simple - staring you right in the face… or on my face, yep, there is no way the nose I have (slightly off centre) on my face says I'm a cute anglo from unknown origins.. It says, I'm jewish, and I'm proud of it. 

While the other kids were busy searching for lollies on treasure hunts at the odd birthday occasion, I was sniffing them out. When pretty little friends of mine were  being complimented on their beauty I was being asked by the kid next to me whether Pinocchio and I happened to be related. It's a fine nose, don't get me wrong, and when your a picky eater like me has an advantage - only I could find out which milk went into which coffee while I waitressed by sniffing them and handing them to the appropriate, albeit confused, customers. 

After 24 years I have come to except my most prominent feature as in some ways my best.  I've also learnt that when taking photos it's wise to avoid the profile shot. 

So dear bloggers, in this new year - be kind to yourself, love your flaws, accept your heritage and be proud where you come from. 

Until next week :)