"Terence" is spelt with one T, a thrice of Es, and a single R, N, and C.

The letter A should be conspicuous by its absence. The letter R is an only child. The letter S has no place in my name.

Those people caught transgressing these very simple rules with be placed on The List.

FFS! My name is on the email I sent you, I sign off with it, it's there on my work pass, at the top of my blog, etc. Do I actually need to get it tattoo'd upon my forehead before you take notice?

Usually I reply by intentionally misspelling the the offender's name in my reply "Thanks Jannet" - perhaps now I'll just send them this blog post!

I log on to Facebook - and this is what I see, all complete with photos of smiling people doing awesome things.

• Melody checked in at Bury Lane Farm Shop "Stocking up on pâté :)"
• Dan "First sky diving lesson. Love it!"
• Lloyd "Sushi!!!"
• Luke "Welcoming the birth of our new baby with some champagne"
• Steve "not being a fan of either presents or parties, just receiving tons of messages on Twitter and FB for my birthday is pretty much perfect :)"
• Ewan "Read my latest piece in Forbes magazine"
• Laura "Red wine, cheese and live classical music... how else would one spend a balmy Australian summers eve?"
• David "Amazing street art in New York City"
• Andrea "Jason & I have gotten around to updating our relationship statuses on Facebook."
• Lexy "London. Heathrow. Cape Town. All in 24 hours"
• Gillian "Is loving being at Hotel du Vin, Henley."
• Menna "This evening I bought a Le Crouset casserole dish before attending a pub crawl at which several people were dressed in onesies"
• Helen "spent a very long time in the swimming pool today and might have to go to bed early to recover!"
• Jess "This Knickerbockerglory may be the death of me!"
• Kate "Planning a trip to see my astronaut friends!"

Literally everyone I know is doing amazing stuff! Sure, there's the odd moan about a crappy commute, or a missed Christmas present. But everyone is so unnervingly upbeat all the time.

I wonder what this does for our mental health? When all you see is the relentless cheeriness of all your friends, suddenly finding yourself miserable can be deeply distressing.

Your friends are always flying off somewhere exotic, and buying new cars, and having exciting careers. You just sit in your underwear wondering if visiting Vimeo rather than YouTube counts as a life changing experience...

It's no longer a case of "keeping up with the Joneses" - you now have to keep up with everyone you've ever met, no matter what the cost!

What we're overlooking, of course, is that Facebook presents us a rather one sided view of our friends.

Let's say your average friend only flies off on holiday every two years. With 100 friends, you'll see someone jetting off every week. All of a sudden, our view of reality is distorted. Our friends aren't all globe-trotters who do nothing but sip champagne in the first class lounge - but the steady drip-drip-drip of friends posting their adventures makes us feel like we're missing something.

Look through your photo album - digital or physical - and count the ratio of photos of people smiling vs looking grumpy. We want to remember the good times. We want to capture and share the brief moments of joy in our lives.

But all those perfect moments combine to a deluge of unfettered joy and love which, if you're not careful, can drown out any rational thought.

I'm not saying that people should post more depressing status updates, or that they should refrain from sharing their happiness. It's just that perhaps we, as a species, aren't yet used to dealing with a constant flood of our friends' successes. It can make even a little failure feel like you're letting down your entire social circle.

Looking through my Facebook updates for 2012 - I've been to some incredible countries this year, changed job, visited zoos and art galleries, had my work published, been retweeted around the globe, raised money for good causes, eaten at some lovely restaurants, won best in show at OverTheAir, drank expensive cocktails with a friend I haven't seen for a decade, been to a Beatles gig, and completed Angry Birds Star Wars.

I am, ostensibly, not a loser. So Facebook can fuck right off.

I've recently finished reading two autobiographies. Both cover the same story. A boy - a nerd - has success in the fickle world of acting. Both stories tell of series of choices made. In one, the boy soars to great heights. In the other, the boy is bought back to Earth with a thump - seemingly never to succeed again.

The first is by Simon Pegg, the second by Wil Wheaton.

What's so hard is that both stories feel like they could have been written about me. Both make me question the choices I've made. Both leave me wondering if I am where I want to be in the world and - if not - how I get there.

Some Background

Before the Internet, before mobile, before girls, before all the things which make me who I am today - I was an actor. I trained to be an actor. I was in shows, I went to classes, I passed examinations, I did interviews on the radio, I was a happy kid following in my parents' acting footsteps.

After one summer show, my brother and I were both picked up by Hobsons International - a leading voice-over agency. We were over the moon! This was it! The chance to free ourselves from the shackles of amateur dramatics and into the big leagues!

So, every few months I would race up to a studio in London and record a voice-over. Usually for a commercial, sometimes for an audio book, the occasional training video. Nothing tremendously glamorous - but oh so exciting. Being able to skip school because I had a gig! Payment - sometimes £300 for an afternoon's work - was a fortune for a kid. I was on my way to becoming a star.

The Scottish Play

One Friday in 1996 I got the phone call that would change my life. Or so I thought. Earlier that week I'd auditioned at BBC to play a part in their upcoming adaptation of MacBeth. They said yes. THEY SAID YES! I was to start on Monday.

I don't know if you can imagine it. Only fifteen and off to play Shakespeare for the BBC. To have my name immortalised next to Ian McKellen & Judi Dench. To be working as an actor. I was dizzy.

That Monday, I made my way to the rehearsal rooms. As I walked down the escalator at Waterloo, I noticed the giant poster for the just-released film "Twin Town". I only remember, because every day I passed that poster - and every day I got to work with Rhys Ifans.

Rhys FUCKING Ifans!

We spent a few days rehearsing - fancifully I imagined that it was where they used to rehearse Doctor Who. Then we went to film in the abandoned Grand Hotel above St Pancras - where the Spice Girls had recently shot the video for Wannabe. I managed a sneaky zig-a-zig-ah on the staircase in between takes.

And then it was over. A heady week of seeing Rhys Ifans act everyone else off the screen, watching the crew complain about the actors, listening to the actors complaining about the food, wearing Alexander McQueen designed clothes and shoes. And then.... Nothing.

I have a fading VHS of the resultant show. I have an angsty teenage diary that I kept during the rehearsals and filming. I won't show you either.

The truth is, I wanted to be an actor - but I just wasn't very good. All of the happy memories that I might have had from filming are erased by a single sentence.

I happened to glance over the producer's notes after one rehearsal. It was there in black and white:

"Older boy needs work."

That killed me. I had no objective idea of how good I was as an actor. I knew that I was quick, funny, had the technique and the desire - but I was obviously lacking the ability.

I bunked off school one morning when the show was broadcast - I don't think I told my friends it was on. I watched in abject terror. The producer was right; I did need work. My diction was sloppy, my timing was off, my body language was wrong. In short, I was unconvincing.

I decided to take a break. To regroup. To find out what it was which made me such a bad actor. I don't remember if it was a conscious choice - but I never acted professionally again. My confidence was gone.

And that's the story behind my sole entry in the IMDB.

Aftermath

I didn't quit acting. I performed once or twice more at school. I did an A-Level in performing arts.

Rather than use that as the springboard onto a drama course at university, I took the safe option. I went for a fall-back career in IT.

Cannily, I chose a University with a great Drama school and pedigree - UEA.

I was active in the drama society - I was in a few plays which seemed to be roaring successes. I wooed my future wife by convincing her to audition for a role in The Royal Hunt of the Sun, in which I played Old Martin.

But, since university, I've not learned a line, recited a poem, or - to use the clichéd phrase - trodden the boards.

I, An Actor

I still consider myself an actor. When I stand in front of a MobileMonday or BarCamp crowd, I am performing. I am timing the laughs, craving the applause.

Before a big presentation at work, or a job interview, I do vocal warm ups and practice tongue twisters.

When I host an event and feel that I have no confidence, I put on a character and let that do the work for me.

If I need to convince someone of an argument in a meeting, I look them in the eye, stay engaged with their character, modulate my tone of voice, and whisper the actors' prayer: "Let them find me convincing."

I miss it. I don't want to be famous. I don't even want to be a jobbing actor any more. I just want to be on a stage - any stage.

Today is my 33rd birthday. I wonder how much longer I'll be stuck playing this particular character...

At the aftershow party, I put the beard's fate to a vote. All the men in the cast voted to keep my rugged pursuit of manliness. All the women voted to destroy the womp-rat nestling on my face - preferably with fire. So the beard went.

I drunkenly staggered to the bathroom, drunkenly attacked my face with a razor, and drunkenly emerged as fresh faced as ever.

There was only one minor problem - I had no aftershave.

Logic dictated that we used the highest proof alcohol in the house. It turns out the best we had was peach schnapps. So I drunkenly splashed that all over my face.

Did I mention I was drunk at the time?

Well, it turns out that covering your bleeding face with cheap and nasty alcohol leads to two very different outcomes.

Firstly, your face stings like hell and you end up covered in sticky goop.

Secondly, women really like the smell and taste of peach schnapps...

Fast Forward

As I have two weeks off from work, I decided that now was the perfect time to grow out a beard. With no one other than my wife to laugh at me, I set down the razor and concentrated all my manly strength into my follicles.

This Is The Beard I Want

(Ok, ok! I just want to be Marcus from Babylon 5!)

Preparation

I gave myself a week's head start. For my last week at work I didn't shave. Well, they couldn't exactly fire me, could they! After a solid week, I look like I merely forgot to shave in the morning.

I'll freely admit that the Kashmiri Falooda from the Sagar Vegetarian Restaurant may be distracting you with its neon colour - but my beard is pathetic!

See!

This Is The Beard I Got

Behold the magnificence! Three weeks of intensive beard growing ended up like this:

Which, to put it in context, means my face looks something like this:

I have discovered several interesting things about my facial hair.

• My maternal grandfather had a red moustache. His genetic legacy to me is the occasional ginger hair cropping up randomly.
• The white streaks in my hair are no longer confined to my temples. My wife tells me I look distinguished - I think I look like a badger.
• My face itches. Constantly.
• I am approximately 42% less fun to snog.
• There's a weird gap on one side of my mouth where nothing grows.

To Lose One Beard May Be Considered Unfortunate

I sharpened me razor on the whetstone, and a scant five minutes later I was back to my handsome self.

Maybe I'll try again in another 10 years?

BONUS BEARD

This is what Evil Terence From the Darkest Timeline would look like. Yikes!

12 months ago, I was working at IPC Media - doing all sorts of interesting mobile stuff for them. Launching around 28 mobile versions of their existing websites.

I then went and joined WAC for a few months, going off to MWC, and really getting stuck in to their standards processes.

I am currently at InMobi - the world's largest independent mobile advertising network - where I work as the "Developer Community Manager". Primarily for Europe, but also bits in Africa and the USA. (As ever, this blog is mine and doesn't reflect the views of my employers. If you want to, you can read my work blog.)

I've also been doing a bit of consulting for a wide range of clients - the Natural History Museum, B&Q, the FCO, and some smaller organisations.

Aside from working and running my own business, I've also been attending debates in the House of Commons, jetting off to South Africa, San Francisco, and ... errr ... Cologne!

I've helped launch QRpedia - which has been a fantastic experience.

Dabr is also going from strength to strength.

So, a busy year behind me. From the way things are going, looks to be a busy one ahead of me :-)

However, after having just had a particularly disturbing encounter with a recruiter, I thought it might be worth stating these rules up front. These are personal to me - but I expect they apply pretty broadly to most people.

1. Don't email my work address.
2. Tell me who your client is up front.
3. Don't lie to me.
4. Don't alter my CV.
5. Don't "connect" on LinkedIn.
6. Spell my name correctly.

Let's take them in order.

Contact

Don't email me at work. You don't know if my boss monitors my email. You don't know if I'm in the middle of a presentation - where having an Outlook Pop-up of "New Role For You" could be a career limiting move.

This is just basic manners. I don't know a single reputable recruiter who would contact a prospective client at work.

Oh, and ringing my work number and telling the receptionist that you've got a job for me? Not smart.

Don't bother contacting me through my LinkedIn profile. If you can't find my phone number and email address, I don't want you representing me. I'm not going to add you as a contact until after you get me a job - although I'll happily introduce you to other suitable candidates if I can.

Who

I've pissed off a lot of recruiters by asking this simple question. I have my reasons.

To start with, there are certain companies I don't want to work for. In addition, I can't craft a CV or application unless I know who it is going to.

I've no desire to work hard on an application only to find out the role is for a company which tests cosmetic cigarettes on kittens.

Second, and more prosaically, I need to know where it is in order that I can see if I want to commute there.

Essentially, after a lot of effort, I don't want to find that you want me to work on the outskirts of Wapping for the News of the World.

Very occasionally, I let the recruiter play the "I can't tell you - but I'll give you a clue" game. That's where they don't break client confidentiality - but say "A large religious organisation whose nearest Tube station is Goodge Street." That way I don't waste anyone's time by applying to the Scientologists.

Don't Lie

Don't tell me you have a killer job at NASA when you don't. Because, regardless of the company, I'll check it out myself to see if the job really exists - or if you just want to put more clients on your books.

Don't say that they're looking for senior position when they want a junior.

Don't say they're willing to pay top-dollar. Give me the salary bands and let me discuss that with the company.

Don't say they're happy for me to serve a 3 month notice period - when they need someone to start ASAP.

Annoyingly, I've had all of the above happen to me.

My CV

I wouldn't claim my CV is a work of art - but I've spent some time perfecting it. It's designed to get me through the door and in to an interview - and it works.

I'm always happy to take advice about what sort of parts to emphasise but I'm not going to drastically change it.

If you really want me to take off my phone number and email address, I won't. Any competent company will Google me to find it.

Do not, under any circumstances, alter what I put on there. If I go to an interview am asked about something which I didn't include on my original CV, I will not be best pleased.

I now, as a rule, only provide PDF CVs. That way, there's less chance of a recruiter altering my work.

LinkedIn

If I haven't worked with you - I'm not going to connect with you. If nothing else, it sends off a big red flag to my co-workers that I'm planning on moving.

If you try to connect to me on LinkedIn, it tells me two things about you.

1. You're too cheap to buy InMail. You don't need to send me a bogus request - you can pay to email me.
2. You couldn't be bothered to do an Internet search for my email address.

In either case, the answer is the same; "no"!

Spelling

Bonus! Suggested by Mat Stace.

If a job pimp sends unsolicited email, and spells your name incorrectly, it's fine to be a bit rude in your reply, right?

I get this so often. My name is "Terence". Get the right number of Es and Rs, please. Note: the letter A should be conspicuous in its absence.

Conclusion

I'm always happy to hear from recruiters - as long as they're happy to follow the above rules.

If I can't take the job you're offering, I'll be happy to recommend someone else.

Planning what I want to have for dinner in the evening is an unfathomable prospect. I can't comprehend how friends can have calendars showing every meal for the week in advance. To me, that's a crazy, OCD-esque level of organisation.

I am simultaneously bemused and full of admiration for people like SpaceKate - she has goal to get to space in the next 10 years.

Comedian - and blogger for 9 years! - Richard Herring has asked readers what their goals are for the next two years, saying:

I will put it in tomorrow's blog and then you can update me in two years and let me know if you've done it. Doesn't matter if you fail. Try again, fail again, fail better.

I struggle to imagine what I'll be doing two weeks from now. I'm dreadful at organising my own birthdays - and I have at least a year to plan for them.

But two years.... That's sufficiently far away that I don't really have to think about doing anything about them for a long, long time.

So, here goes. My hyper-exciting "To-Do" list for the next two years...

Personal List

• Give Blood
  • I've several friends who give blood regularly - yet I've never done it. I'm lucky never to have needed blood before. I don't even know my own blood type. There's no real reason not to have done so; I've not got a crippling fear of needles.
  • Likelihood: 5/5
• Learn Chinese Again.
  • I studied Mandarin Chinese at University and did rather well at it. I'd like to get back to the stage where I can read and write at a GCSE sort of level.
  • Likelihood: 2/5
• Visit China
  • A long international trip may be expensive, but I think it would be worth it. It would also spur on my re-learning of Chinese. Yes, I know they have an appalling human rights record - and that flying releases tons of CO2. But... errr.... No, I have no other real defence than "I want to."
  • Likelihood: 3/5
• Not have children
  • Look, I'm sure your children are lovely, but I don't want any of my own. Like Bruce Lawson, I was considering having surgery to ensure I remain child-free (not child-less) - but I'm not sure about the side effects.
  • Likelihood: 5/5 of no kids. 1/5 for having the snip. 4/5 if Ultrasound proves successful.

Professional List

• Speak at more conferences
  • This is the easiest item on the list. I've already got a few lined up for this year and next. But it does require me pulling my finger out and start pursuing more opportunities.
  • Likelihood: 5/5
• Do more consulting
  • Since I started consulting, I've already bagged a few big companies and a few small businesses. Even if I do take on a full time role, I hope I can keep advising people about mobile related things.
  • Likelihood: 4/5
• Write A Book
  • I've been faffing around trying to write up my Mobile Badvertising posts as a (free?) eBook. I'd like to get that finished and (self?) published.
  • Likelihood: 2/5
• Maybe, perhaps, think about a Masters Degree
  • I have a Bachelors Degree (2.1 since you ask) - but by the end of studying, I really didn't enjoy the degree experience. Since then, I've tried taking formal courses in other fields (marketing, programming) but I've found them unsatisfying compared to informal study. I don't know if I have the discipline to do a part-time course, but I'm achingly aware that many of the roles I look at seem to require a Masters.
  • Likelihood: 0.25/5

What Else

These lists are crap. I know that. I've always lived without goals. I wait to see what opportunities present themselves and then I take them without much consideration of the next six weeks - let alone six months. Is that normal? Is that good?

Do you set goals? Do they make you feel happier? Do you feel that goals help you achieve more? Is there any thing else I should be doing? Do let me know in the comments.

I am a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar!