The Graduate. And a newt.

It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished them well,

You could see that Pierre did truly love the Madamoiselle,

And now the young Monsieur and Madame have rung the chapel bell,

"C'est la vie", say the old folks; goes to show you never can tell ..

It's been over yet another month since I posted on this blogamathing. Words have been difficult to find the past 5 weeks or so since graduation and moving out. 

No, not quite. There have been words and there has been free time, in abundance. Free days became mindless days and mindless days became boring. There's a point where you're thankful you don't have a job and have a lot of free time, but there's a point past that too. It begins just after you realise the money's run out. 

This is me looking like the unemployed graduate that I am, in one of the very few photos from the day that wasn't documented a thousand times over from the cameras of others parents.

I enjoyed wearing that robe, especially when the staff were walking around in their medieval looking capes and hats and stripes. It made me feel like an extra in Game of Thrones. Graduate of The Night's Watch.

There have been a few other things rattling around of late.

The Olympic Ceremony. I feel the need to give my 2 cents on the matter. I thought it was pretty good. It was not as spectacular as some had anticipated, nor was it as crap as others have claimed. From a technical and logistical standpoint, it was mindblowing, and every credit must be given to the choreographers and engineers that built the set-pieces and kept it flowing. Content-wise, it just missed the mark. It felt like a Guardian cryptic puzzle question. What links: The Industrial Revolution, Voldemort, the NHS and Dizzee Rascal?

I got that they were all key parts of our cultural history, but couldn't understand how they had been chosen, or why a particular area was given longer than others. Bond was good, Rowan Atkinson was fucking brilliant, but the NHS bits and the history of British music just dragged and didn't go anywhere. My question to all viewers - the dancing 'story' involving the black guy in the hat and the girl with big hair: how did he call her to tell her she'd lost her phone? That's like ringing your mobile to find out where it is, from your mobile.

7 out of 10. 9 for all who took part.

And its old news now, but the Queen really should've cheered up. It must feel odd doing a public engagement for her now, seeing as everything up to this point has been about her.

We saw the torch as well actually, waaaay back when it went through Headingley near Leeds. It was a little underwhelming, but made up for by the fact that we were high fived by motorbike cops beforehand as they drove past. 

I have no idea who the guy was running, but he seemed pretty thrilled anyway.

I've ruined my sleeping pattern again recently. Sleep at night is once again a strange occurence. You know that thing where you wake up in the middle of the night to pee or get a drink, and when you get back, you lie there and realise that your brain has been stockpiling a list of all the stupid and insecure thoughts you've ever had and has been saving them for a time like this?

"Hey, look!" The Brain will say, "It's 3.42 a.m! Seems a good time to have an analysis breakdown of that awkward conversation he had with that girl he was seeing. Let's especially dwell on the wording she used. Is there anything we can recall that he said that would make him seem like a real wanker?"

Or, "Hey, remember how he was looking through all those requirements for various job positions recently? Is there a way we can compound that and snowball it into an analysis of his incompetencies, regardless of whether or not they're relevant? 3.42 seems the best time for such a thing."

Or, "Can we turn that bowl of cereal he spilt earlier into a spiral of torture that somehow links in to every awkward conversation and rejection he's ever had? And tie this in with his inability to grow any worthwhile facial hair?

The last one's a personal truth, and favourite.

The ol' brain can be a problem. Not only with the torment, but also the speaking in the third person, as if it were a complete separate entity. Its been a while since I drowned it with Strongbow.

- REAL TIME TOPIC CHANGE ALERT -

We just found a newt in our house. It's about 4cm long and it's cute as hell. My mums already been on the internet googling "can I keep a newt?"

We cannot, apparently.