We all know what Thursday means. Thursday means...
... that I have been sitting on my arse all day but not in the I've-done-nothing sense, more in the I've-been-sitting-on-my-arse-all-day-but-doing-stuff-while-I-have-been sort of vibe. I have also been staring at my laptop monitor for too long - the rectangular shape of the screen has literally stretched my eyeballs into such an odd shape that it feels like the corners are poking into my skull and, subsequently, into my brain. My poor brain. But I feel like I have got stuff done today. On a sad note, I think I have broken my laptop a little bit and I don't know how - it doesn't quite close properly.
... that it is Friday tomorrow.
... that I sort of have to discuss what I did today if I mentioned it above. I am a slave to tangents, so please, I do apologise for jumping everywhere - I will clean up, I promise. What did I do today? Well, I am looking for sponsorship for my Masters degree (I plan to do an MA in Creative Writing), and I spent today emailing and basically putting together a letter that I can send out to some publishing houses and things. I have done all this now, and have 6 envelopes ready to post, bright and nicely tomorrow morning. One to Penguin, one to HarperCollins, one to Random House, one to Faber & Faber, one to Bloomsbury, and one to the Royal Society of Literature. I am begging to be sponsored, and pretty much offering my writing services up to the gods, be they glad or sad that I am doing so. Also, I have found six poems to send to Ambit magazine (it does poetry and short stories and art, edited by some people including Carol Ann Duffy; JG Ballard used to as well, but he died recently, so he doesn't anymore). I also think that poems shouldn't be called poems because when somebody says "poem" or "poetry" or "I like poetry" or "I am/was writing a poem", the surrounding people laugh, or wretch inwardly. This is a shame, which is why I think there should be a new name for them. I will think of it and get back to you. Ambit is here: http://www.ambitmagazine.co.uk/.
... that I haven't been at work because I don't have a job. This leads to me looking up things like this. Geek-alert at 2 o' clock! Nah - I think it is just good to find things out.
... that tonight is NEW SLANG. We love New Slang, but it doesn't love us. It is a relationship that we have cultivated over the last couple of years. It is a club night at McClusky's in Kingston. It used to play better music. It used to be at a better venue. I used to not prang so much. Last week I had a dreadful session of prang, and didn't even make it into the club. What is 'pranging'? Here is a dictionary definition of it: PRANG #1. It is also slang for cocaine. Now think of The Jungle Book (Disney film) - "I'm the king of the swingers..." - and then look here for PRANG #2. This is a PRANGER. This is why I get distracted on the internet. The meaning which we use it for is probably more related to the 'original', English-language meaning - as in, 'someone who prangs', 'pranging out'. As ever, Urban Dictionary is on hand: PRANG URBZ. On another note, a prang cat is a crack addict. Alex wrote a lovely poem about New Slang, which he sent to me via text a few minutes ago:
There was a club night called New Slang,
which often caused people to prang,
I wanna have a drink,
without a big stink
and without fear of getting raped by a gang.
Beautiful. This just about sums it up.
So it's that Thursday should-we-or-should-we-not feeling again, that one which curdles in a largely mood-killing indecision that usually means we go without wanting to anymore. We need to be decisive but I am rather worried that there won't be anyone to make a decision anyway. People being too tired? Puh-lease! Wake up! Coffee! Red Bull! Whatever! Just WAKE UP!
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