As Promised... a post.
Check me out.
I was considering one of those long winded "retrospective of 2006" posts, but frankly I think its a little too late and the virtues of said post are outweighed by its flaws.
EDIT - I said that. Look, look at what I've said. Then I went along and wrote one. Shorter than it could be I'll have you know.
2006. I did more than I intended to but far less than I wanted. I accidentaly scored a regular job in network television, inadvertantly started a moderately sucessful improv group and have made more friends than I know what to do with, of particular note are Cariad and Sara, two smart actresses who happen to share both a flat and my Boosh fetish. Hoorah.
I left England's green and pleasant shore for the first time under my own steam and travelled to the colonies. This was good, I intend to go again, for I have good friends there and an english accent; both of which foreshadow a good time.
My lovelife has had a number of ups and downs this year. Which is good. Much better than the usual flatlining. I've learned a number of things from that, all useful and sensible and with any luck I'll forget them soon enough but still be able to avoid old mistakes, I'll make newer, bigger, more glorious mistakes as time waddles on. Here's to my continuing stupidity, I do suprisingly well out of it. An illustrative example is Pippa still going out with me. This is eight weeks now folks.
You heard.
I have still to get a real job. This is probably because I'm terrified of any level of change. At all. But if improv's taught me anything it's ""Bollocks to fear", so maybe I'll do better at that this year. We'll see. I also still need to ride a horse.
Hopes for 2007;
I fondly hope that Gillian McKeith dies of being held down by fatties and injected with cholesterol while someone screams "You're not a proper doctor!" at her face.
I want an episode of East Enders where nothing dreadful happens to miserable people and nobody overreacts. And where the letter "H" is correctly used at the beginning of words.
Pete Docherty either gets clean and becomes and estate agent or OD's so massively that passers by also die of heroin overdoses.
The celebrity big brother house is filled with sewage and then set ablaze. Only Face from the A-Team survives unharmed.
That most of you have a happy and prosperous new year, but less so that I, so that I can compare myself to you and "win".
I'm done now.
EDIT - Yeah, I had nothing to write about other than last year.
Hmm... I'm rapidly running out of work, ITN's incredibly quiet this time of year. So it looks like I'm back to temping for the time being. Though that said, I'm collating lists of places to fling CVs at like an applicative shotgun. BP, the Tate and the world of television are on my list, any further suggestions for places I could work will be welcomed.
Word.
I was considering one of those long winded "retrospective of 2006" posts, but frankly I think its a little too late and the virtues of said post are outweighed by its flaws.
EDIT - I said that. Look, look at what I've said. Then I went along and wrote one. Shorter than it could be I'll have you know.
2006. I did more than I intended to but far less than I wanted. I accidentaly scored a regular job in network television, inadvertantly started a moderately sucessful improv group and have made more friends than I know what to do with, of particular note are Cariad and Sara, two smart actresses who happen to share both a flat and my Boosh fetish. Hoorah.
I left England's green and pleasant shore for the first time under my own steam and travelled to the colonies. This was good, I intend to go again, for I have good friends there and an english accent; both of which foreshadow a good time.
My lovelife has had a number of ups and downs this year. Which is good. Much better than the usual flatlining. I've learned a number of things from that, all useful and sensible and with any luck I'll forget them soon enough but still be able to avoid old mistakes, I'll make newer, bigger, more glorious mistakes as time waddles on. Here's to my continuing stupidity, I do suprisingly well out of it. An illustrative example is Pippa still going out with me. This is eight weeks now folks.
You heard.
I have still to get a real job. This is probably because I'm terrified of any level of change. At all. But if improv's taught me anything it's ""Bollocks to fear", so maybe I'll do better at that this year. We'll see. I also still need to ride a horse.
Hopes for 2007;
I fondly hope that Gillian McKeith dies of being held down by fatties and injected with cholesterol while someone screams "You're not a proper doctor!" at her face.
I want an episode of East Enders where nothing dreadful happens to miserable people and nobody overreacts. And where the letter "H" is correctly used at the beginning of words.
Pete Docherty either gets clean and becomes and estate agent or OD's so massively that passers by also die of heroin overdoses.
The celebrity big brother house is filled with sewage and then set ablaze. Only Face from the A-Team survives unharmed.
That most of you have a happy and prosperous new year, but less so that I, so that I can compare myself to you and "win".
I'm done now.
EDIT - Yeah, I had nothing to write about other than last year.
Hmm... I'm rapidly running out of work, ITN's incredibly quiet this time of year. So it looks like I'm back to temping for the time being. Though that said, I'm collating lists of places to fling CVs at like an applicative shotgun. BP, the Tate and the world of television are on my list, any further suggestions for places I could work will be welcomed.
Word.