I'm certainly unsure.

This week is going to be busy. Friday will be graduation, Saturday will be my birthday and on Thursday, I have been offered an interview..... hmmmm.

My uncertainty surrounding the interview is that it is only a two month contract. Under normal circumstances I would take the job and then continue searching afterwards with another hole in my C.V. belt, but this September I may be starting a teaching course. I don't know when the job starts so it may be the end of July start of August which places the end date precariously close to, or after, the start date of the teaching course. If I was to be offered the job I could be back here in two months having closed a door to a useful qualification. This may take some pondering and more information.

Until then I shall eat lunch, write and stare out of the window looking for inspiration of things to do other than clean the house which I'm not particular fond of doing unless the mood is upon me.

Gradu-nation

It is that time of year again where thousands of former students have the privilege of donning large black robes and walking across a platform in front of people they don't know and will never see again: graduation.

This year, on Friday 15h July, it will be my turn to suffer. As many have said, I don't take compliments well, I'm never sure what to say in return or do with them, my ego is large enough to keep me feeling good about myself at the best of times but when someone compliments me, I come to a stand still and have no idea what to do. Criticism I can work with, use or argue against, something develops from it, but compliments, they just acknowledge that I am doing well and headed in the right direction which is always welcome but I have no idea where to go from there.

I have often been queried as Asperger's and it wouldn't surprise me if I was as the majority of the signs are there, so forgive me if I appear awkward and uncomfortable during the day. I will be enjoying it at some level but to me, it will be a large, unwieldy compliment.

A long, long time ago...

It's been a while since I posed anything in here. Since my last ramble I have been to the BBC for some more work experience, I have graduated and am now stuck in the middle of nothing trying to find a media job, which is difficult with the government making people redundant left, right and centre. It doesn't help either that a lot of companies now seem to want to hire very experienced people for love level, entry positions - get as much as you can for as little money - and other companies expect you to work for free. I've had to I have worked with previously in paid positions comeback to me asking me to do the same job but unpaid. I laughed and said no.

To keep myself sane as the search continues, I have got back into script writing in the form of The Hitchhiking Bards. Hopefully the four of us will be able to put together a few decent scripts and if we are very lucky, have something bought or produced. Ah but to dream a dream on cloudy day.

Pointless papers?

Have you read the local papers recently around Cardiff? If so was there actually anything significantly interesting in what now appears to be a publication for adverts? Recently I have found that certain local newspapers have descended from interesting and relevant local stories, to barely newsworthy tales. On top of that the number of adverts severely outweighs the number of articles. I can understand the purpose of the adverts, as a means of funding the papers but when you are left with 2 mid-sized stories squeezed in between numerous car show rooms and people who can fix your T.V. aerial you have to wonder if you can call it a newspaper anymore.

The few stories that are scattered throughout the pages aren't particularly interesting either. Yes there is the odd political article or serious crime which piques interest, but when one of the largest stories is firemen finding a bunny or explaining that shop has closed down with no additional information you can't help but feel they are struggling to provide the service they set out to do.

Internet infestation?

When I think back to my younger days, days where I spent most of my time being under 4ft, I marvel at how far computers have come. In those simpler days we were faced with nothing more complicated than the BBC Micro, Commodore 64, Amstrad and Acorn which would all do the same basic tasks of word processing, basic graphics and very primitive games. These days we have machines that are capable of editing high quality photos, editing audio and communicating with people on the other side of the globe, that, I think, it one hell of a leap forward in a couple of decades.

You do have to wonder though, wether or not this dependancy upon computers and the internet is a good thing and if we are sacrificing aspects of life long held dear to make room for this digital age.

Emma Thompson was reported today at being appalled at how people no longer seem to use proper language, replacing it with slang and basic vocabulary and many would agree. You could argue that the internet is to blame in part with shortened writing, as you would find in text messages, appearing frequently, as though to save space or in some cases it would appear, to make what they are saying so indecipherable that only the person receiving can understand it. Yes languages change over time, merge with others and bend to the progress of society but when children can't even spell session, because or what you have to consider whether or not language is regressing.

The internet has proven itself as an invaluable resource of information, discussion and progression in a wide number of fields, but should be discarding books to make room for the online word? You can pretty much find results for anything you care to think of when searching on Google, but when it comes to knowledge, books still hold sway. When a text is produced the first port of call is paper; people will then go and buy the book or borrow it from their nearest library, this process ensures that everyone can have access to the book and its physical nature means it does not depend upon a variety of other elements to read it. Online books needs to be regulated in regards to who has the rights to access them, who has the rights to put the book up and all that other legal malarkey. Then we come to the technical issues. First of all you need to own a computer which we all know can break, then you need the phone line for the internet then internet access itself. If any one of those elements is disrupted then access to texts is removed; much more complicated than going out to a shop or library and picking up the physical thing which doesn't even need batteries.

Gardening Galore

I have been living in my house for little over a year now and to be honest, the garden looked more like an afro than a place to admire and relax. At the time I could only find opportunity to mow the lawn before the infamous winter of 2009 set in and everything turned to ice. So, this summer, during the brief spells of warmer-than-freezing weather, I set about giving my tiny plot of land a much needed face lift.

You may think I simply did this because it had to be done to prevent weeds and grass reigning supreme and preventing me from reaching the garden shed but to be honest, I did it because I enjoy it and I have a strange sense of prize over my decorative piece of land because, as I said in opening, it is something that I admire and use to relax in. So after a £50 spending spree at my nearest gardening centre, the makeover began and things are starting to look infinitely better.

Most of us can say we have fond memories of sitting in a garden during a cool summers evening with friends or family, talking, eating or just being. Would such an experience have been as pleasant if you had to trample up and down the lawn beforehand to flatten a patch of earth upon which you could place a chair, or if you couldn't put your feet down because some thorny bugger had already laid claim to that space? I doubt it.

A well kept garden is a delight, a pleasure to behold and a sneaky source of exercise in its maintenance. Even on the gloomiest of days, when everything is dark and down, I just direct my eyes through a window and feel all that much better for seeing the colourful flowers, birds pecking away at the feeder and nicely trimmer lawn. To prove to myself that this effect was genuine I spent a week looking out from my study window, at the top of the house, over into next door's garden. In the year that I have been here, nothing has been done to that garden other than someone push some weeds aside to open the shed to remove a hammer. Unwanted vegetation dominates every visible inch, an unloved rose bush competes for space with a dying tree and garden furniture has become engulfed in 4ft grass. Every day of looking over this spectacle, I felt as grey as the weather and frustrated for not being able to do anything about that mess.

Perhaps as a response to this I doubled my efforts in my garden, lashing out at anything that may have spilled over from next door to induce some sense of control and perhaps to make the neighbours jealous of the beautiful arrangements I possess at the rear of my house. If anything, I have learnt that gardening inspires the judgmental side of me.

The Stig is Dead, Long Live The Stig.

A secret perhaps more coveted than the meaning of life has come under threat these last few weeks and the potential revelation of this hidden truth threatens to shake the lives of millions: the identity of The Stig.

Even if you are not a regular viewer of Top Gear, most people will be aware of The Stig; that mysterious white clad figure, standing supreme over the Top Gear test track, faceless and silent. His identity has been one of the best kept secrets in television and it would be remiss to say that no one has ever pondered over who hides behind that white helmet.

Though wonder we have, it has to be said that half the fun of The Stig was not knowing who he was. It is doubtful that he would have possessed the same entertainment value if he was simply a man. Under that visor, he is whoever we want him to be, or whoever the Top Gear team decide to make him, but one thing is certain, that uniform made him more than a man.

With his identity under threat and potentially now out in the open, it is almost certain that the white Stig must die. For those who do not follow Top Gear, white Stig is the second one to have appeared since the series revival in 2002. The first, who was reveal to be racing driver Perry McCarthy, was killed off for revealing his identity in his autobiography. This black Stig, drove off the end of an aircraft carrier during a challenge seemingly to his death to be replaced by the white Stig, restoring anonymity to the character and starting afresh.

Now, with a strange repetition of the first scenario, The Stig appears to have been identified in another autobiography, though I cannot bring myself to use names lest the reality of the situation hit home. With this revelation, it may be some time before we discover whether or not a replacement will have to be brought in but it seems certain the world's most popular motoring programming is set for a shake up.