Interview With The Vampire

Now I know I haven't written here in quite a while but there really is a good reason for that, in that I was recently given the first three books of Anne Rice's 'The Vampire Chronicles'. Ergo I have spent my days and evenings reading those rather than filling the aethernet with the contrite rubbish I usually pour forth.

The one book I have completed so far, Interview With The Vampire, is absolutely exquisite. Considering it was published in about 1977, however, this is unlikely to be front-page news. Bearing that in mind, it is probably pointless to review it because those who care already know what it is about.

So in lieu of that I think I'll just describe the ethemeral experience of reading it. In my experience, I can only assume that Ms Rice wrote the book by candlelight whilst locked in a garret with a Rachmaninov concerto playing at a high volume from her stereo. Why, you ask? Because when I read it I was also listening to the aforementioned Rachmaninov and some Mozart too, and it seemed to me that the music complemented the book perfectly. Barber's Adagio, on the other hand, does not quite go so well.

And it gets better, because yesterday I procured the 1994 film of the same name. Which was worth its asking price just to see Tom Cruise alternately dance with a corpse, bleed to death and have the bejesus scared out of him by a police helicopter.

Woe is me oh unhappy day.

Oh dear. I've done it again. Once more unto the breach I guess.

Well, I didn't get the job I was interviewed for. And it appears that such opportunities are going to increasingly become few and far between.

The AJ this morning predicted that the construction industry really won't pick up before 2011, and that 2009 is going to be a really, really, bad year to be in the architectural profession. Which doesn't bode well for any of us really.

I've now officially had to put my studies on hold, as I've missed the deadline for getting a year-out placement this year. Apparently that has befallen most of my classmates too.

So now I have a (pretty much) useless degree that qualifies me to do one, und precisely von, form of work, which has gone down the tube. Blast. Worse than that, it appears any form of job I could potentially do either (a) calls for experience I don't have, (b) a drivers licence I don't have or (c) is so far away as to make just getting there an occupation in its own right.

So now I'm stuck. I can't find a job that suits my talents, I have my parents starting to push me to go on the dole (something that my sense of pride and dignity precludes on pain of death and, worse, humiliation), and I'm starting to feel increasingly depressed and despondent.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the whining has returned.