Well I think the news has gotten out now, mainly because I told everyone in the last blog, but I did actually reject - in a very roundabout way - my first job opportunity...
Well I say it's my first job opportunity, my first job was offered to me when I was seventeen, by a shopkeeper who I was friends with. But more on that on another occasion I think. As you all know, I rejected the job offer at the Call Centre.
And just as I thought I had closed the door of employment for the time being, it leaked in through the window. Because we all know that employment can be seen as a very wet thing, perhaps a storm, in this on-going metaphor of my life. What do you think?
Anyway, after rejecting, in a roundabout way, a job I really didn't want to do, I managed to acquire myself a work experience position in a local publishing house, and if that wasn't enough I also managed to spark up a meeting between me and a local editorial group - I know what you're all thinking, it doesn't pay the bills. No, you're right there, they really don't pay the bills, but they're all real-world experience in a world I want to be a part of.
I was having a conversation with HB and her Cousin yesterday, and they're both fed up of the jobs they have, and just want to get to the careers they, we, and I deserve. We didn't all work for those bloody degrees to work on Customer Service until we're in our late twenties.
I think the problem with me is that I'm just ambitious and a dreamer, waiting for the world to make sense to me, and serve itself up on a plate of silver and gold. And now I know why we came up with the term 'silver platter'.
Anyway, I just wrote on Twitter (@BigTomAjax) that this and Disney films were obviously the cheapest form of therapy, so let's get on with that therapy business.
Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney film, it's not the best one, but it is my favorite. I just told someone that, much to their surprise. So without further ado, it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure, that I welcome you tonight - as we analyse which of the characters I would probably suit the best.
I don't think I'm either of the male leads, I'm not as much of a meat head as Gaston, and I don't have Beast's rugged charm (otherwise I'm sure I would have already won over Beauty and be living happily ever after until death in our grand French Enchanted Castle with a staff of hundreds). Nor am I the female protagonist, I'm smart, but I'm not that smart.
As for supporting roles, I'm not Codsworth, Chip, Mrs Potts, or the simply handsome and irresistible Lumiere. And nor am I Belle's Father - that would be wrong as I quite fancy Belle.
In actual fact I think I'm more the trusted, loyal, and brave in the face of danger, but completely willing to run away from danger trying to save the ones I love Phillippe - and if you were wondering, yes that's the Horse.
Though of course being Phillippe I have the aspirations of becoming the Beast, and all his might, bravery, and getting-the-girlness. Would you believe that? What do you think?
Well there we are then, if I'm a little shorter with women, then I'm sure I'll make some ground somewhere. Now don't read into this next bit, because it's been going on in my head all evening, so I thought I should get it down on paper and make the voices stop. And like I say, this is cheap therapy. I wonder if something good will span from this next bit, but just ignore it and skip to the end if it's boring...
W:
Are you not talking to me?
M:
I'm trying to ignore you.
W:
Why?
M:
Because I like you.
W:
That doesn't make any sense.
M:
It does to me. It hurts me every day knowing that I like you but you don't like me, all because of my mistakes.
W:
I never said I didn't like you, and would you stop bringing up those 'mistakes'. You always do this when you're drunk.
M:
I love you. Is that what you want to hear?
W:
No.
M:
I know, I had my chance and I should leave it. But when something feels so right it's that much harder to leave behind.
W:
Don't do this to yourself.
M:
Everyone already thinks we're going out. My parents, your parents, our friends, your friends, my friends. Everyone, even strangers. Everyone knows, apart from us.
W:
Please stop. I don't want History to repeat itself.
M:
But that's all History does. Repeat and repeat until something changes for good or...
W:
Yes, or... I don't want to hurt like that again.
M:
I can promise you won't ever hurt again.
W:
No you can't, but I like that you care. But enough's enough.
M:
No it's not. Not for me. And I'm sure that's what you keep telling yourself to stop yourself from doing this.
W:
Please stop this.
And I think I should stop there because the voices in my head are starting to sound a bit teary. I don't know what that'll turn out to be. Maybe a superb play/musical. Oh I'm the queerest straight man from these parts you'll ever meet. But I try. That's enough talking for the moment I think.
Carpe diem, until next time bloggers...
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