Beshemoth: the potted history

Hello, I am Beshemoth, I am old enough to know better, and I am extremely shy and retiring. No matter what people may tell you. Many years ago, a mate challenged me to attempt to write a humorous diary for public consumption, based only on daily events of my life. Sadly, the stupid ideas are the ones that stick, and thus it is still going today.

I am a secretary, which I suppose is amusing because I worked like a dog to get through higher maths, two science degrees, a year as an unpaid labourer in Southern France; anything, in fact, to be something other than a secretary. Oh, I did make it all the way to ‘Marketing Assistant’ once, but lo, it was pretty much… being a secretary. One fabulous day, perhaps, I will be an engineer or an artist or a writer or some combination of the above. It is worth noting at this point that several of my nearest and dearest find my aspirations effin’ hilarious. So I may yet make it to ‘misanthrope’, if nothing else.

While awaiting the frabjous day when I make enough money to not panic when I hear the bills coming through the letterbox, I am mainly trying to scrounge up additional skills. The last few years have been all about the street-fighting, knitting, home-brewing, rifle-shooting, baking and learning to make anything at all that isn’t buttercups grow at the allotment. Through all this, I also rent rooms to various amiable (or usually, less than amiable) strangers, and thus spend most of my life cleaning up after them.

Since all that is a bit much, especially if I want to fit in the day job and occasional bouts of sleep, I am currently trying to focus, mainly on Stuff Wot Might Bring In Cash; so more recently it’s been all engineering, programming, artwork, and more street-fighting (if there is ever any cash, I will need to protect it?). Sporadic blacksmithing, carpentry, writing, gig attendance, sword-fighting, disasters and adventures abroad are shoehorned in as the schedule and budget allow.

I guess the above proves I’m nothing if not an optimist, no matter what people may tell you. And despite the colossal amount of giving out, I’m generally quite happy with life – but it doesn’t do to let the Powers That Be know that, of course. They start upping the ante, for one thing.

Things I am proud of doing:

  • I wrote an entire goddamn zombie novel! (unpublished, of course, but I’m working on the second draft)
  • For my thirtieth, I climbed a vertical kilometre up Stromboli and watched it erupt! (The shine was taken off this somewhat after I bust my knee doing so and thus discovered you also get a fantastic view from the pub, which is wheelchair-accessible.)
  • For the sake of honour and friendship, I once got naked in a church and sang Jerusalem. It’s… complicated. Nevertheless, it saved the friendship, and that is what counts.

Er…

Damn. You’d think, over the course of a lifetime, I coulda got to more than three, really.

Okay I admit it, the above is what is known as a Lie, told for cheap laughs. While personal failure is a personal tragedy, it is comedy gold to other people, right? But in the interests of honesty, I am proud of loads of things! Look at that sitcom writing group I totally blagged my way into, by knocking out a ‘folio’ of previous work in a couple of evenings after the day job – and it was so good, they let me in! And then I ended up writing the entire pilot episode, even though there were experienced Writers For The Telly on the team!

(And then the whole project got cancelled by the bloke I expected to actually be doing the bulk of the writing, because he said it was mince, but nevermind so much about that, eh.)

And one time I unexpectedly had to perform in a fire-dancing display, and a Maypole dancing display, and I organised a kick-arse Millennium survivalist bunker getaway, in case the city of Glasgow went up in flames. (Which part of it did, when the firework display set fire to the City Halls, but we couldn’t even laugh when we found out, because our gaff was also nearly set alight by fireworks. Ah, irony, how you love me.)

And I work harder than anyone and every time I try to complain about my lot in life, everyone falls around in stitches. Which is probably what led to the challenge to start this blog in the first place, only it turns out it doesn’t work as well when I’m actually trying.

Anyway! Come check out my artwork!

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One Response to Beshemoth: the potted history

  1. motheralice says:

    Hey there! Having disappeared my myspace and you’ve stopped using yours (seems) I’ve no other way than this to keep in touch… Haven’t seen much from you and am hoping you are well! Cheers!
    Aly.

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