I think sometimes being a zombie is all i've got to look forward to; no emotion, no bills and I can't dance anyway so co-ordination wouldn't be greatly missed.

This morning I woke up feeling overly motivated, and used this energy to go for a walk down Tame Valley. Only as soon as I stepped out of my front door, a raindrop pelted me on the fod and I retreated back into my cave. Now the clouds are looming over my house, mocking and pointing, refusing to secrete rain particles until I make my second attempt to leave the house.


The lack of money situation has been eating away at me, my friends and my Mum. She's sick of giving me money for megariders because my college money hasn't come through. I guess she wouldn't mind as much if I was trying to get a job to solve the situation, but there's a very snobbish attribute to my personailty when it comes to getting a job. I guess it's not such a bad quality if you're not desperate for work, because evetually, someday in the distant future a window might open for you and your dream job and you can eat toblerone at your desk and have lengthy phone calls to your mate on the office phone while clicking a pen and winking at your supervisor. The problem with living in Manchester is that everyone wants a job, and there just aren't enough to go around. I know a handful of people that are struggling to find employment, and even you reading this might find yourself in the same situation. If Manchester's "a city of oportunity" (taken from the brochure I robbed from the college library), where are all the fucking job opportunities?

Employment (slightly) aside, I've had to make myself an actor's CV as my Friend Robbie is trying to get me a part on Waterloo Road. Yes, it is infact the BBC Drama situated in a Rochdale High School. I've had to attach a photo of myself and list some of the people i've worked with and some of the projects i've been a part of, but it's embarrassingly sparse. It reads like the list of jews that were invited to Hitler's birthday party.

It's not that I don't want to get ahead in acting, or even that I don't want to get a job. It's just that when it comes down to it, my aspirations and dreams, my motivation and stamina can all be summed up by these three letters;


cba.

If there's anything that i've actually put my all into, it's my end-of-year play Oh What A Lovely War. At first we were all heavily skeptical about it; the acting was shit and we spent more time playing hide and seek than we did "blocking" or staging the thing. But after we realized we only had a few weeks left, and that Alistair was shit at hide and seek, we buckled up and stopped giving Jim a hard time. The end product is immense. The acting is sterling (not counting myself, I'm struggling with my Austro-Hungarian accent) and the technical side of it is apparently the biggest project our college has ever done. They played some explosion sounds the other day which made our seats shake and our hearts jump, and with the lighting and smoke machines and everything, it actually feels like all the work we've put in is reaping some rewards. It's on Tuesday and Thursday evening if you're interested ;)

I'm still in two minds whether to do Media next year. It would mean spending another 2 years at college and getting to know a new group of people and leaving the old ones behind, and as much as i've fallen in love with everyone i've met this year and can't bear to leave them behind, I can't help but think this is where I want to go. I have no idea what to do with myself when i'm older and am forced to get a proper job, I could do anything, from acting to Journalism, Scriptwriting or even a bit of commissioned canvas art. I've only got a few more weeks to make my mind up about it, and I look around in rehearsals at all the friendships and the progress i've made, and it just seems so selfish to throw it all away. Either way I don't think i'd ever be completely happy. We'll see eh?

Oh, it's raining.

To the most beautiful woman in Politics (and probably the whole world).

Cherie: a tribute.


Stand by your man!


Hats off to Cherie!


Tickets please: Cherie shows her travel credentials.


Cherie's personal notes for her speech are accidentally projected behind her.


Don't know about you but i'm getting me a feminist! Rawr!


Cherie corrects Tony: "that's not our son"


Look at that beautiful smile...


I think we'd all like to give her a summons. TO OUR BEDROOMS. Oh yes.


A bit of a spark there, we think? Tony wishes!


Best dressed wife of a politician by far!


That infamous "morning after" shot! Wonder what her and Tony were up to last night eh?


Stand by your man! Part 2.


"I TOLD YOU I WANTED A LOOSE PERM." Only joking. It's her crime wig innit.


Cherie having a gossip with one of her girls.


Best.Picture.Ever.


"A woman's work is never done!"


Cherie narrowly misses out on the biggest hat competition to John Prescott's wife. She'll regret that, bitch.


When Cherie's hubby was asked to sing a song at a Beijing press conference, Cherie snatched the microphone and launched into the Beatles' "When I'm Sixty-Four".


Is this an alternative therapy, or is it a cheap alternative to a facelift?


Cherie declares "I'm no superwoman". Though with a body like that, she could give wonderwoman a run for her money. Mmm yeah.


Cherie is re-united with her long lost daughter. The similarities are shocking!


Cherie "getting down" with her homiez.


Tony holds Cherie's hand tightly as she endures one of her seizures.


How could Tony resist those puppy dog eyes?


Goodbye, fair maiden.

Aww, i'm all teary-eyed now.

Being vague is almost as fun as doing that other thing

With compliments from the cat burglar.

I'm going to open the floor to questions. No real conditions, but bear in mind that I reserve the right to refuse to answer any question for any reason whatsoever.

Public entry so comment anonymously if you want.