Hosing down rain outside, leaves tumbling from the trees, overcast and gloomy weather - yes, folks, it's autumn! After blazing sunshine at the weekend, the creeping advance of winter is making its presence felt. The temperature's been creeping downwards of late, and I've already switched from Converse All-Stars to Caterpillar boots for casual footwear. [What? You thought I wore my black winklepickers every day? Please! Those are for business, not pleasure.] Warm feet enhance happiness, you know.
Off to Glasgow tonight for the launch of PILOT, a new scheme for drama screenwriters to have their work produced and screened on Channel 4. Getting in and out of the city is a hassle, as it can easily become a three or four hour round trip for what will probably be a thirty minute presentation, followed by mingling. But that's the downside of needing to network - sometimes you have to go a long way just for the opportunity to kiss a frog or two. Such is life.
Get a nice piece of news yesterday that helped elevate from mood from its subterranean depths, though I can't get into specifics. Today is results day for the major project on my MA screenwriting course. Sometime after eleven this morning I should know what grade my continuing drama TV pilot and series bible got. Next week all the students hear how they'd overall for the MA: incomplete, failed, passed or better. I've certainly completed, so fingers crossed.
If I get my MA, I have to decide whether to attend the graduation ceremony. It's at the Festival Theatre in central Edinburgh, and costs fifty quid to walk across a stage, shake somebody's hand and get a piece of paper. No doubt there's even more money to be extracted from proud students for hire of gowns, daft hats and grud alone knows what else. All of which will be followed by an almighty pish-up, probably at the Filmhouse bar where the Screen Academy students met last year.
I've never graduated before and doubt I'll be going back to university anytime soon, so I'll probably embrace the experience. In New Zealand you didn't get a certificate or anything when you finished high school, least not that I can remember. Went to what was then called Auckland Technical Institute [now the somewhat grander Auckland University of Technology, like that's fooling anyone] for my journalism diploma. We did get cheesy cardboard certificates for that, in a feeble ceremony as I recall, followed by drinks at the Auckland Press Club.
Having watched graduation ceremonies in endless American high school movies and TV shows, I guess it could be fun to experience the moment for myself. Plus it'll be a chance to meet the other graduates and catch up on how people are going along. I remember last year's post-graduation drinks at the Filmhouse, the graduates talking about where they hoped to be a year's time. Wonder how many have achieved their ambitions in the past twelve months? Or where I'll be in November 2008?