Last of the Mohicans is easily the most underrated movie.

Guys think it's a chick-flick and girls think it's too gory.

But it has something for everyone: from the loin-cloth frolicks in the evergreen forests pre-colonised Americas, to the French canon-ball assaults on the English troops - it's a love story between unlikely couples; a war movie of inevitable ends; it's a high road to fanciful history - Last of the Mohicans is easily the most underrated movie of the last 25 years.

Storytellers

Meanwhile, in other news: today we had "Speakers' Bureau". This is a group of people who spend a year becoming confident, articulate, engaging public speakers.

Most of the time I spend with this group I wonder about myself. I wonder about the idea I have of what I could be and the fact it is always bogged down in the mire of what I actually am.

The fanciful idea that I could, in any way, be able to talk with any sense and/or sensibility to a group of people beyond the voices in my own head is brought to reality on days like today. I don't enjoy it; I'm not good at it; I have no idea why I keep banging on and subjecting my audience to the unprepared ramblings of the mad woman I am becoming.

I can tick off all the reasons why I fail because, like most of my ilk, I know exactly where I'm going wrong which proves I am a theorist. I have no right to try and continue to not do: Yoda can go fuck himself - I am living in a world where I cannot bridge the gap between knowing what to do and doing it.

Fortune smiles on me and continues to surround me with good people and honestly, that's the only way I get by. Cos Lord only knows: months upon months of practice with speaking in front of real people and I'm just getting worse.