Hope, expectation and artistry.

You know, this 'recently graduated' lark isn't all its cracked up to be when you're as unambitious, ambivalent and as cynical as the writer here. Whilst some are off polishing up their C.Vs, dabbling in work experience and generally displaying a pro-active approach to life, yours truly is too busy tinkering with his Football Manager team and already thinking too much of his own mortality to care. Given that this is the case, a move away to a new town where new friends, a new job and potentially a whole new lifestyle awaits, you'd be forgiven for advising me that perhaps it would be better if I just stayed in my comfort blanket of semi full-time cinema work and late nights spent doing very little. Alas, despite lacking direction and purpose, I do still possess some feeling of hope and expectation. This afternoon I was fortunate enough to 'star' (I use the term loosely) in an episode of an online sitcom called 'Who's Toby?' (www.whostoby.com). Now, I'd never done any proper acting barring a few fleeting appearances in school productions so understandably I was a bit nervous. This was felt even more acutely when reflecting upon my past three years at university. I'm an English and Film studies graduate, surely the only things I could be good at are either writing or acting?! So if I cock this up, suicide is naturally the only alternative to pursue. As it happens, I was told that what I'd done was good and I look forward to seeing the results in five weeks time. I can postpone killing myself for the time being at least and for the next week or so, carry on in my bubble until Bournemouth awaits next week and I find myself well and truly in the...

An Introduction to Pretentious Pointless Posting

Good evening, or guten abend rather, just to keep up with my current activity of attempting to learn German. As the headline perhaps suggests, you may detect a certain cynicism on my part towards the 'uber cool' (can't be bothered to find an umlaut and yes, I use this particularly cringeworthy phrasology to be deliberately annoying) 'art' of blogging. With so many ways to manipulate the various crass tools of self-representation, why am I attempting to kid myself that someone out there actually gives a toss about what I have to write? Well, someone might. Moving on swiftly, this is my rather poorly constructed and typically inane introduction to myself. As you may have also noted, I am attempting to teach myself German. Why? Warum? Unlike many of my fellow illustrious natives, I'm rather fond of the Germans and their way of life. I suppose I am inclined to say this given that I have relatives who have lived a large part of their lives there or had the good grace and fortune to be born there. Alas, until this illusory pipe-dream of bratwurst and Kinder Eggs materialises, I am stuck in 'ol blighty. Rather, I am stuck in a potentially disastrous (always effective to be overly dramatic?) limbo between my current fair town of Gerrards Cross in South Buckinghamshire (England) and my intended next destination which is Bournemouth. Why Bournemouth? So many questions, so much blog space. About a month ago I found myself having recently graduated and comfortably bobbing along working at the local cinema. So a friend kindly suggested the Bournemouth option and thus I not so grudgingly accepted that it was indeed a well thought life-changing decision. Well, maybe not quite. But Bournemouth is where I shall flock and flock I will until I can unlock a 2p machine at the arcade, armed only with a tiny coat hanger. Now that's valuable life experience.