Sunday, 24 April 2011

Saturday 23nd April 2011: Dissertation and Procrastination

If you're reading this blog, it means that I'm not working on my dissertation. If so, please call me, message me, throw things or shout at me that I should. There. (It might also be a bit rambly)


I've been back in Brighton since Saturday night. That was the first time in two weeks I had been home. Home. Yes, you did see that correctly. As I was walking through Brighton, I felt a -being-at-home-ness I never usually get, anywhere. I basically left the station, a few days ago, and I was overcome by a sense of: I can gladly live here for the rest of my life. Things in general are sort of going the right way. That means I am enjoying it whilst also being wary of how quickly it all could end. Certainly, the thought that I might live here for the rest of my life does remind me to be wary of traffic, since Brighton in the summer could kill any cyclist without much trouble.

In more Brighton-based news, throughout the last couple of days of sun I have mainly been indoors, trying to write my dissertation and finishing reading dissertation-based books. Well, I should have, had I not spent most of the day on twitter and facebook (like the cool new twitter-gadget there on the side of this blog? Nice, isn't it?).

I've also got a plan for using this blog in a more column-friendly way. This will mean less diary-pieces from my on-the-whole boring life and more of my on-the-whole boring opinions. It could happen. Probably not, but it could.

Tonight, however, I'll be doing 5 Brand new bits of Comedy AND trying out a new performance-method at the 3 Jolly Butchers. You'd better be pleased, because I've taken some of it from this blog. So in a way, you've helped write this stuff! So thanks and congratulations are in order.
In all other ways, you haven't of course. It's still mine. It'll pay my bills, I wrote and it's mine. My own. My precious etc.
But thanks, really. If these bits of material work, then the blog has justified itself as a valuable tool. Otherwise, it's just meaningless (which, uncannily, is also it's title). (I really should finish that dissertation).

The day after, I'm on at the Monday Night Comedy Club ( at the Quadrant, and then (not 100% sure, Tom could you please confirm this) 5 minutes at Party Piece in Acton, London. The Monday Night Comedy Club should be in the Guardian Listings, so if you find it, let me know. My mother has started to collect memorandi of my year-long comedy career and I would also love to see my name on a piece of the best paper in the world. You know, after it's all over. (FX: Adagio for Strings).

In other news, I now HAVE Edinburgh Fringe accomodation and a festival-long teching job, next to the other teching job I already had. Still looking for spots though! SAVE ME! Really looking forward to the fringe. I have a sneaky suspicion that this one might be the best one yet. Although it might rain.

Last Thursday, I was invited to do a gig at Stitches Comedy in Southampton. The night was really nice and so were the people. But, unfortunately, the audience was near exhaustion at 23:30 and the pub starting filling up with scary drinking men. So it didn't go down as well as I hoped. Not absolute death, more death by accident. Like friendly fire or accidentally poisoning yourself with nutmeg at Starbucks by mistaking it for cinnamon. Death like that can happen to everyone. I got to stay over in Southampton, where we watched the oddest film in the world. I can't remember the name, but for the most part, it looked like Microsoft Paint having a nightmare and using all possible visual distortions in the program to shit effect. It was absolutely terrifying, like a dog being sick on the baby Jesus. It didn't set out to be terrifying, but it was. It may have been about crack-addiction, although I'm not quite sure. I do hope I can do another gig for them (note that embarrassing bit of self-promotion there. I don't know how advertisers do it and not be sick. Also, Bill Hicks is rubbish. Even though I've never seen his stuff. Only heard it from the swathes of 15-year old selfharmers I obviously hang out with all the time.).

I hate dissertations! AAH!

This last bit was written on Saturday night at a low point. Am now 2000+ words further along. Annoyingly, as my processes always happen to be; the central thrust of the argument was A. already there in the swathes of research I had already done and reasonably informed guesses I had already maed in January-April (it's easy to forget what you've done in the past) and B. just before I went to bed last night, hyped up on coffee, Alka-Seltzer and self-loathing, I found a way of actually turning it into something more readable. I just have to knock it in to shape now, which will be a couple of hours. Then I can spend the next month finetuning it, until handing it in on May 23rd. Life is nice!

Bet you didn't think I'd end a rambly, weirdly discontented blog like that, did you? Well I did. Love you all.

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