I would never believe that they thought I was pretentious, I'd keep imagining them starting a blog in my honour.

Goodness, if my life was televised it would be hilarious. All the witty conversations and bizarre moments? All the well timed inapproprii? All the inventing of new words?
Yes.

If it isn't a dinner table joke between me and Stephen about peering through delicate drapes only to see Joh Bailey being "slammed" by his enormous partner, it's probably the following conversation that detailed how "you probably heard it before you saw it, but looked anyway because you somehow thought it might be beautiful... Can we put that in a zine?" (We don't actually say the bit about putting it in a zine, but I know, we know.)

The cameras could glance over my shoulder as I sat on my bed, typing on my laptop, typing for the benefit of so few readers but with such rare talent and insight. Viewers would be suprised at how low-key but poignant everything I did was. All insecurity washed away. Short, truncated sentences screaming "the guy knows how to make a point." Then silence.

I would probably not indulge the camera with long anecdotes, but would make interesting points about the environment I'm in. Like a chameleon I would reference respected academic work, but in the same sentence use the term "junk". My peers and lessers squealing with glee, my contemporaries nodding with approval. I would probably get invited to talk at high schools about careers. Imagine my arrogance, thinking such a thing - I say with absolutely no doubt that I would plan my "talking at a high school career day outfit" before the first episode had even aired. Me all planning things to say, being nonchalant and condescending: "Oooh, I want to be an lawyer, oooh I want to be a partner at an accounting firm! *SLAMS NOTES DOWN ON FLOOR AND STARES AT FRONT ROW*. Relax. Trust me."