While I was swimming yesterday evening a children's swimming lesson was also taking place. The man running it was a perfect example of why all sports instructors should undergo compulsory personality transplants, although he did at least distract me from my usual thoughts of "I'm SO bored I might just drown myself for the novelty factor".
He stood on the side of the pool bellowing at the 6 girls, finishing each command with "If you don't understand, put up your hand". If their hand went up, he just repeated exactly what he'd already said, in a slightly louder and more annoyed tone of voice, despite the fact that they didn't understand it the first time. For one particular manoevre, he must have done this at least 5 times, until eventually the girls lost the will to live and stopped putting up their hands. When it became apparent that they still hadn't understood, he got them out of the pool and gave them a pep talk (at the top of his voice) about how they should say they didn't understand if they didn't. His words said, "it's fine to say you don't understand, it doesn't make you stupid", but his tone of voice said "but you are unbelievably stupid for not understanding this". Which reminded me of our old school PE teacher who would tell motivational stories about enormously fat girls who got fantastic grades because they tried very hard, while at the same time totally ignoring any effort put in by those of who were athletically challenged.
When the girls had finally grasped what they needed to do, Mr Swimming Instructor then demonstrated a novel way of praising them. He started shouting out "good boy, well done, see girls, it took a boy to show you how to do it." When they protested that they were girls, he said "oh really? That was so good I thought it must have been a boy doing it." Argh... from bullying to casual sexism in one easy step.
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
Reading
At church on sunday we were shown a video about the work of the bible society, who translate the bible into different languages and formats. It made a big deal about the need for audio bibles, because of the many people who can't read. All fine, except that this message was conveyed entirely by pictures accompanied by written text and a musical backing track - no spoken words at all. Therefore assuming (I assume!) that anyone in a developed country would be able to read from a screen....
Saturday, 27 October 2007
Public transport
I use a lot of public transport. Most of the time I quite enjoy it, I don't even mind too much when teenagers play music on their rubbish mobile phone speakers to the whole bus, though it does get annoying when more than one person does it and they get into a mobile music war.
On a less grumpy note, this morning I saw 2 young teenagers get on the bus, bringing with them a load of fishing tackle in one of those old person shopping trollies. One of them sat down, but stood up when he saw an older person getting on the bus. However the older lady walked straight past the seat, and a young guy sat down in it instead. The trolly was quite sweet, the standing up was sweet, and the look on his face when the bloke sat down was even sweeter.
On a less grumpy note, this morning I saw 2 young teenagers get on the bus, bringing with them a load of fishing tackle in one of those old person shopping trollies. One of them sat down, but stood up when he saw an older person getting on the bus. However the older lady walked straight past the seat, and a young guy sat down in it instead. The trolly was quite sweet, the standing up was sweet, and the look on his face when the bloke sat down was even sweeter.
Sunday, 21 October 2007
I went to church this morning. The service ended at 11.20am, and these were the things I was asked between 11.20am and noon:
Immediately as the service finished I turned round to speak to the person sitting next to me, who I think was a first-time visitor. Before I'd managed to speak I was stopped by the church treasurer, who asked me to sign some cheques right now because he had to leave. I got up to do so, while at the same time attempting to convey via the medium of international gestures that someone else should say hello to the visitor.
As I signed the cheques, someone walked up carrying a large bronze cross, and asked me to unchain the vestry door so she could take it round the back.
I was about to do so, when someone waved at me from the prayer corner, wanting me to pray with someone. The treasurer went to open the vestry door.
I went and prayed, offered tissues etc. The person recovered herself, and I went into the next room to get a coffee.
On the way to the coffee queue ( a walk of at least, ooh, 20 seconds) the person who I'd been communicating with via the medium of sign language stopped me to ask if I knew anything about the visitor because he'd had such a strong accent he couldn't understand him. I didn't, but had a long and confused conversation, because I initially thought he was talking about the preacher, who had a slight welsh accent and had entertained us by telling stories in a scots accent.
Walked 3 paces and someone stopped me to ask if I could do some photocopying for them. I said I would once I'd got a coffee and if I could remember the code.
Walked another 3 paces and was stopped by someone else. She wanted to know about a notice in the notice sheet, did I know anything. I said I didn't. This apparently wasn't sufficient information, so I added a couple of suggestions of people she could ask and for good luck also outlined their half term holiday plans. This was more acceptable, and I made it to the front of the coffee queue without incident, at the same time waving to a friend to get her to come rescue me.
At this point actually managed a non-functional conversation, which was only interrupted by the photocopying lady who very politely told me she'd got someone else, who could remember their code, to do it for her.
Then all that was left to do was lock up, chase out the stragglers, and run away home. Is it wrong to be slightly horrified at the thought of going to a church service every week for THE REST OF MY LIFE?!
Immediately as the service finished I turned round to speak to the person sitting next to me, who I think was a first-time visitor. Before I'd managed to speak I was stopped by the church treasurer, who asked me to sign some cheques right now because he had to leave. I got up to do so, while at the same time attempting to convey via the medium of international gestures that someone else should say hello to the visitor.
As I signed the cheques, someone walked up carrying a large bronze cross, and asked me to unchain the vestry door so she could take it round the back.
I was about to do so, when someone waved at me from the prayer corner, wanting me to pray with someone. The treasurer went to open the vestry door.
I went and prayed, offered tissues etc. The person recovered herself, and I went into the next room to get a coffee.
On the way to the coffee queue ( a walk of at least, ooh, 20 seconds) the person who I'd been communicating with via the medium of sign language stopped me to ask if I knew anything about the visitor because he'd had such a strong accent he couldn't understand him. I didn't, but had a long and confused conversation, because I initially thought he was talking about the preacher, who had a slight welsh accent and had entertained us by telling stories in a scots accent.
Walked 3 paces and someone stopped me to ask if I could do some photocopying for them. I said I would once I'd got a coffee and if I could remember the code.
Walked another 3 paces and was stopped by someone else. She wanted to know about a notice in the notice sheet, did I know anything. I said I didn't. This apparently wasn't sufficient information, so I added a couple of suggestions of people she could ask and for good luck also outlined their half term holiday plans. This was more acceptable, and I made it to the front of the coffee queue without incident, at the same time waving to a friend to get her to come rescue me.
At this point actually managed a non-functional conversation, which was only interrupted by the photocopying lady who very politely told me she'd got someone else, who could remember their code, to do it for her.
Then all that was left to do was lock up, chase out the stragglers, and run away home. Is it wrong to be slightly horrified at the thought of going to a church service every week for THE REST OF MY LIFE?!
Saturday, 13 October 2007
Hairspray
About twice a year I fill up a free saturday afternoon by buying a super cheap theatre ticket. Today I went to see Hairspray - my tastes tend towards the philistine and I like musicals for the feel-good factor and the fact that you don't need to think too much. I had one of the seats in the gods, the kind where you get an oxygen mask along with your ticket, but the view was ok - I've been to some where I've ended up peering out from behind a pillar. It only started a couple of days ago, so it's still in the preview stage, but it was fine apart from a few lapses in sound and a little problem when the follow spot didn't really follow. I read a paper article a while ago that said Hairspray was successful in the USA because it makes fun of american blue collar workers, but would be less successful in the Uk because... mmm not sure I can exactly remember the logic here, but the prediction was that the stage musical version wouldn't go down well in London. At the time I'd only seen the film version, and didn't really agree that it was mocking a particular category of person. The stage version though does have the mother (John Travolta in drag in the film, Michael Ball on stage) as more of a caricature, if it's possible to be more caricatured than a man in drag- John Travolta's woman is slightly more convincing (as a woman and as a character) at the beginning, and definitely less manky.
So... Loved the film, quite liked the musical, and still not sure if it's stereotyping and if it is, whether it's in an ironic good way or a bad way. Isn't any period piece going to have some degree of stereotyping that time period? But it also reminds me of this vexing question of whether it's ok to call people chavs... is it just an (admittedly derogatory) description of a type of style, or is it similar to racist/sexist labels? Answers on a comment please...
So... Loved the film, quite liked the musical, and still not sure if it's stereotyping and if it is, whether it's in an ironic good way or a bad way. Isn't any period piece going to have some degree of stereotyping that time period? But it also reminds me of this vexing question of whether it's ok to call people chavs... is it just an (admittedly derogatory) description of a type of style, or is it similar to racist/sexist labels? Answers on a comment please...
Tuesday, 25 September 2007
Christian self-help for beginners
Some of the helpful and tactful self-improvement tips that I've been given over the years. Follow these, and you too can be a shiny happy person:
1. Stick bible verses on your mirror.
2. Stick bible verses in your bedroom.
3. Stick bible verses on your toilet seat (yes really).
4. When you read the bible, stand on another bible and then you'll really be standing on the word of god.
5. Problems like these are often the result of secret sin. Is there anything you'd like to confess?
6. Feeling bad about yourself is a sin, you know. You need to repent.
7. You're great! Well, no you're not, you're a vile sinner like the rest of us.
8. When you get home, contemplate your sins. (Can we feel a theme coming on here?!)
9. These things you believe about yourself are lies from the devil. Just don't believe them.
10. Imagine, when you get to heaven, Jesus will be there, and he'll say 'why did you waste your life?'
11. Well, I came round here to have a chat, but if you aren't going to have a deep and meaningful conversation I might as well go home. (Jumps up and leaves).
12. Spiritual person: Something very significant happened to you when you were 13
Me: Er, no, I don't think so
Person: Did you change school?
Me: No
Person: Parents divorced?
Me: No
Person: Bullied at school?
Me: No
Person: Illness?
Me: No
And so on..... until eventually I got: "Well, maybe if you pray about it god will reveal it to you".
1. Stick bible verses on your mirror.
2. Stick bible verses in your bedroom.
3. Stick bible verses on your toilet seat (yes really).
4. When you read the bible, stand on another bible and then you'll really be standing on the word of god.
5. Problems like these are often the result of secret sin. Is there anything you'd like to confess?
6. Feeling bad about yourself is a sin, you know. You need to repent.
7. You're great! Well, no you're not, you're a vile sinner like the rest of us.
8. When you get home, contemplate your sins. (Can we feel a theme coming on here?!)
9. These things you believe about yourself are lies from the devil. Just don't believe them.
10. Imagine, when you get to heaven, Jesus will be there, and he'll say 'why did you waste your life?'
11. Well, I came round here to have a chat, but if you aren't going to have a deep and meaningful conversation I might as well go home. (Jumps up and leaves).
12. Spiritual person: Something very significant happened to you when you were 13
Me: Er, no, I don't think so
Person: Did you change school?
Me: No
Person: Parents divorced?
Me: No
Person: Bullied at school?
Me: No
Person: Illness?
Me: No
And so on..... until eventually I got: "Well, maybe if you pray about it god will reveal it to you".
Thursday, 20 September 2007
Overheard 2
Might have posted this before, but it reminded me of a text exchange with my sister. I'd just read an 'overheard' column in the paper, which had the line "Imagine if your surname was Key, and your dad decided to name you Alan". I texted this to my sister and got the reply "Imagine being woken up by THAT". Oops.
overheard
Blogger seems to have decided I'm german, not sure why. Anyway...
Getting off the tube this morning I overheard this, delivered in a calm tone of voice:
Younger man: "I'll come with you".
Older woman: "If you come with me, I'll kill you. So don't come with me"
Can't help wondering what the back-story is for that exchange... The man stayed on the platform, obviously deciding not to take his life in his hands.
Getting off the tube this morning I overheard this, delivered in a calm tone of voice:
Younger man: "I'll come with you".
Older woman: "If you come with me, I'll kill you. So don't come with me"
Can't help wondering what the back-story is for that exchange... The man stayed on the platform, obviously deciding not to take his life in his hands.
Tuesday, 4 September 2007
Wedding
I went to the slightly scary wedding at the weekend. Never did find some new clothes, so just reprised this year's wedding outfit. The scary guest just ignored me, which was fine by me. She did cause a bit of a scene by going missing in a strop, resulting in several people who didn't know her running around in a panic, while those of us with previous experience said reassuring things like 'oh she'll be fine, she knows where we are'. She was discovered hiding behind a grass slope in Asda's car park, which was probably not the scenario she'd envisioned for herself. Apart from that, all was good, and the happy couple are well and truly happy and coupled. Best (well, most amusing) comment of the day has to go to someone I haven't seen for a few years. She said "I can't get over how you look - you look..." (great? different? tanned?)... "like a girl!". I kind of thought I looked like a girl the last time I saw her as well, but apparently not. If I'd been quicker I would have said something like "well, the last time we met I was just having my gender reassignment", but I only ever think of these things afterwards.
Sunday, 5 August 2007
Clothes dilemma
05 Aug 2007
clothes dilemma
I'm going to a wedding at the start of september. Pleased to say it's not mine. It will however be interesting because there will be someone at the wedding who I really don't want to see. This meeting therefore requires the kind of outfit that instils confidence and self-esteem, and preferably makes me look 6 inches taller and 3 stone lighter. Went to the shops yesterday and discovered that all the clothes are either magenta, lime green, or black... which means I'll probably put it to the back of my mind for a couple of weeks and then have to make emergency lunch time, after work, Saturday and sunday afternoon shopping trips in the final week.
clothes dilemma
I'm going to a wedding at the start of september. Pleased to say it's not mine. It will however be interesting because there will be someone at the wedding who I really don't want to see. This meeting therefore requires the kind of outfit that instils confidence and self-esteem, and preferably makes me look 6 inches taller and 3 stone lighter. Went to the shops yesterday and discovered that all the clothes are either magenta, lime green, or black... which means I'll probably put it to the back of my mind for a couple of weeks and then have to make emergency lunch time, after work, Saturday and sunday afternoon shopping trips in the final week.
Tuesday, 31 July 2007
Lefties
31 Jul 2007
lefties
The news today informed me that scientists have located the first gene that influences handedness. Good, I thought, a genetic basis for being left handed is much better than the other theories, which as far as I understand it, are basically different types of brain damage. Then I looked at the smaller print... This candidate gene only makes someone slightly more likely than average to be left handed (i.e. it's likely to be working in conjunction with other genes or in fact brain damage), AND the same gene is also associated with a higher risk of psychotic illness. Ditch the brain damage and gain psychosis - lovely.
lefties
The news today informed me that scientists have located the first gene that influences handedness. Good, I thought, a genetic basis for being left handed is much better than the other theories, which as far as I understand it, are basically different types of brain damage. Then I looked at the smaller print... This candidate gene only makes someone slightly more likely than average to be left handed (i.e. it's likely to be working in conjunction with other genes or in fact brain damage), AND the same gene is also associated with a higher risk of psychotic illness. Ditch the brain damage and gain psychosis - lovely.
Sunday, 22 July 2007
Apologies
22 Jul 2007
apologies
First a confession. My name is Defying Gravity, and I watch Big Brother. Yes, it's shameful but true...
Anyway, tonight I was watching and admiring the BB apology technique. I personally am not very good at appropriate apology giving. I tend to either apologise profusely when there's actually nothing to apologise for - this reaches its pinnacle when I automatically apologise to inanimate objects for bumping into them - or find myself tied up by a British emotional reticence and have to make a huge effort to actually apologise rather than burying my head in the sand/running away/emigrating to avoid the issue. Ostriches and Jonah are nothing compared to me. However I was amused by an apology on BB tonight. It was a development on the 'I'm sorry for upsetting you' (but I'm not sorry for what I did because I still think I'm right and I'm only apologising so that you'll talk to me again and stop throwing things at my head) technique, and went something like 'I'm sorry, you still shouldn't have said what you did and you were well out of order, but I'm sorry anyway'. Well at least it's honest... although can't help wondering exactly what the person thought they were saying sorry for, or whether they genuinely thought that 'I'm sorry for my behaviour but it wasn't my fault, actually it was your fault' counts as an apology.
apologies
First a confession. My name is Defying Gravity, and I watch Big Brother. Yes, it's shameful but true...
Anyway, tonight I was watching and admiring the BB apology technique. I personally am not very good at appropriate apology giving. I tend to either apologise profusely when there's actually nothing to apologise for - this reaches its pinnacle when I automatically apologise to inanimate objects for bumping into them - or find myself tied up by a British emotional reticence and have to make a huge effort to actually apologise rather than burying my head in the sand/running away/emigrating to avoid the issue. Ostriches and Jonah are nothing compared to me. However I was amused by an apology on BB tonight. It was a development on the 'I'm sorry for upsetting you' (but I'm not sorry for what I did because I still think I'm right and I'm only apologising so that you'll talk to me again and stop throwing things at my head) technique, and went something like 'I'm sorry, you still shouldn't have said what you did and you were well out of order, but I'm sorry anyway'. Well at least it's honest... although can't help wondering exactly what the person thought they were saying sorry for, or whether they genuinely thought that 'I'm sorry for my behaviour but it wasn't my fault, actually it was your fault' counts as an apology.
Thursday, 5 July 2007
Neighbours
neighbours
I live in a block of flats, and I've blogged before about the fact that our downstairs neighbours like to smoke out of the staircase window and then go back into their nice smoke free flat leaving ash all over the window-sill and the hail/rain/snow blowing into the hallway while the open window bangs against the wall. The other problem we have, which will be familiar to all flat-dwellers, is the bins. Our rubbish bags used to be left in a big pile by the back door, which was nice for the foxes and less nice for everyone else. We now have big wheelie bins in special enclosures, and recently we also got a recycling service that has a brown bin, green bags, and orange sacks to be left by our front doors.
This is evidently all a bit complicated for our neighbours. Several months after the bin enclosures were built people are still leaving their rubbish at the back door, where it won't be collected. They're also fond of leaving furniture, fridges, cardboard boxes etc, which don't get taken away. So now we have bin bags and random items by the back door, and recycling bags plus random items in the bin enclosure, and a great stack of letters from the managing agents instructing and threatening everyone. I'm deeply embarrassed to admit that I even went as far as phoning the agent (outside office hours so I didn't actually have to speak to anyone) and left an authoritative and articulate voicemail that went something like:
"um, I'm, um, from flat 23, er, we just rent but, er, well, there are bin bags being left by the doors and, er, I don't think people know where the, um, the , er, bin enclosures are because there aren't any signs and, um, well, lots of the people here aren't, um, well,, they're not that fluent in english, and your letters are, um, well, erm, not that easy to read or, erm, understand, and well I don't think they're reading them, maybe they don't get them or, er, understand them and, erm, well, ok, that's just it really..."
I live in a block of flats, and I've blogged before about the fact that our downstairs neighbours like to smoke out of the staircase window and then go back into their nice smoke free flat leaving ash all over the window-sill and the hail/rain/snow blowing into the hallway while the open window bangs against the wall. The other problem we have, which will be familiar to all flat-dwellers, is the bins. Our rubbish bags used to be left in a big pile by the back door, which was nice for the foxes and less nice for everyone else. We now have big wheelie bins in special enclosures, and recently we also got a recycling service that has a brown bin, green bags, and orange sacks to be left by our front doors.
This is evidently all a bit complicated for our neighbours. Several months after the bin enclosures were built people are still leaving their rubbish at the back door, where it won't be collected. They're also fond of leaving furniture, fridges, cardboard boxes etc, which don't get taken away. So now we have bin bags and random items by the back door, and recycling bags plus random items in the bin enclosure, and a great stack of letters from the managing agents instructing and threatening everyone. I'm deeply embarrassed to admit that I even went as far as phoning the agent (outside office hours so I didn't actually have to speak to anyone) and left an authoritative and articulate voicemail that went something like:
"um, I'm, um, from flat 23, er, we just rent but, er, well, there are bin bags being left by the doors and, er, I don't think people know where the, um, the , er, bin enclosures are because there aren't any signs and, um, well, lots of the people here aren't, um, well,, they're not that fluent in english, and your letters are, um, well, erm, not that easy to read or, erm, understand, and well I don't think they're reading them, maybe they don't get them or, er, understand them and, erm, well, ok, that's just it really..."
What gender is your brain?
05 Jul 2007
what gender is your brain?
Ways in which I've been told I'm quite male:
1. When I get home from work I can't cope with having a conversation straight away. I have to process the day first. If I was married it would be my partner going 'have you had a nice day at the office dear?' and I'd be the one grunting and pouring myself a drink. Actually, I've often thought it would be handy to have an old fashioned wife - someone who would know how to do things like make a cake or hem some trousers without having to look up instructions on the internet.
2. I really dislike it when people give non-specific warnings about an 'important conversation that's coming up', e.g. sending me an email saying 'there's an issue you need to know about, please phone me tomorrow night.' That's just wrong. Either tell me what the problem is so that I actually have time to prepare myself, or just phone me and talk about it. I quite like having the prep time, but I really don't like spending a day or 2 wondering what the 'serious issue' is going to be. Actually, I don't really know if this is a male trait, but someone once told me it was, and who am I to argue?
3. Although I have - I think - reasonably good interpersonal skills, in meetings I like to stick to the point. If we have a decision to make, I like to go straight to that decision without faffing around. Feel free to state your opinion, but please do it without unnecessary details or diversions. Tell me about your personal life/ existential philosophy/ detailed procedures for paying the cleaner AFTER the meeting, not during it. Meetings are for problem solving, not for sharing.
Since I'm definitely female, and am not feeling very sleepy tonight, I thought I'd see if I could find some kind of 'what gender is your brain' test. And indeed there is one on the BBC website. I'm pleased to report that my brain is on average female, but somewhat more masculine than the average woman's brain, if that makes sense. It seems to be masculine in very specific ways - I was better at a couple of tasks than the 'average' woman, but on one of the tests of maleness I scored an impressive 0 out of 20 - it appears I don't have any drive at all to systemise things. This is a bit of a relief I suppose, since one of the theories about autism is that it's an extreme version of the male tendency to systemise.
what gender is your brain?
Ways in which I've been told I'm quite male:
1. When I get home from work I can't cope with having a conversation straight away. I have to process the day first. If I was married it would be my partner going 'have you had a nice day at the office dear?' and I'd be the one grunting and pouring myself a drink. Actually, I've often thought it would be handy to have an old fashioned wife - someone who would know how to do things like make a cake or hem some trousers without having to look up instructions on the internet.
2. I really dislike it when people give non-specific warnings about an 'important conversation that's coming up', e.g. sending me an email saying 'there's an issue you need to know about, please phone me tomorrow night.' That's just wrong. Either tell me what the problem is so that I actually have time to prepare myself, or just phone me and talk about it. I quite like having the prep time, but I really don't like spending a day or 2 wondering what the 'serious issue' is going to be. Actually, I don't really know if this is a male trait, but someone once told me it was, and who am I to argue?
3. Although I have - I think - reasonably good interpersonal skills, in meetings I like to stick to the point. If we have a decision to make, I like to go straight to that decision without faffing around. Feel free to state your opinion, but please do it without unnecessary details or diversions. Tell me about your personal life/ existential philosophy/ detailed procedures for paying the cleaner AFTER the meeting, not during it. Meetings are for problem solving, not for sharing.
Since I'm definitely female, and am not feeling very sleepy tonight, I thought I'd see if I could find some kind of 'what gender is your brain' test. And indeed there is one on the BBC website. I'm pleased to report that my brain is on average female, but somewhat more masculine than the average woman's brain, if that makes sense. It seems to be masculine in very specific ways - I was better at a couple of tasks than the 'average' woman, but on one of the tests of maleness I scored an impressive 0 out of 20 - it appears I don't have any drive at all to systemise things. This is a bit of a relief I suppose, since one of the theories about autism is that it's an extreme version of the male tendency to systemise.
Monday, 25 June 2007
Hello mum
25 Jun 2007
Hello mum
Apparently I have a regular reader (most probably just the one) - so I'd like to say hello to Bonus Lady's mum.... Hello mum!
Hello mum
Apparently I have a regular reader (most probably just the one) - so I'd like to say hello to Bonus Lady's mum.... Hello mum!
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
What I learnt at the weekend
05 Jun 2007
what I learnt at the weekend...
What I learnt at the weekend was.... don't agree to do something before working out how you're going to do it. This less than profound thought came to me at 4.45am on Sunday morning, as my alarm went off and I got up contemplating the prospect of spending 8 hours on a coach travelling to and from Northampton. A few weeks ago I agreed to go to a friend's confirmation on Sunday morning. I've visited there before so I knew the train was fairly quick from London, and that you couldn't book tickets in advance. I therefore didn't check train times until Saturday, at which point I discovered that there were no trains between London and Northants on this particular Sunday. There was a replacement bus service but it didn't get in til 10.10 and the service was at 10.15. No problem, I thought, it's not that far away, I'll get a coach... and then found that coaches from Victoria don't start until 9am on Sundays, and it's a 2 hour journey. They'll let you travel from Northants to London early on the weekend, but not the other direction. Hmm... Next tactic was to see if I could travel from Oxford. Yes I could, but not before 9am... Finally I had the inspired thought that coaches run all night to airports, and checked Heathrow. A 7.10 bus would get me there on time, there was just the small matter of actually getting to Heathrow, which is 2 bus rides away from where I live... hence the getting up at 4.45am. Moral of the story... don't have friends who live in Northampton.
what I learnt at the weekend...
What I learnt at the weekend was.... don't agree to do something before working out how you're going to do it. This less than profound thought came to me at 4.45am on Sunday morning, as my alarm went off and I got up contemplating the prospect of spending 8 hours on a coach travelling to and from Northampton. A few weeks ago I agreed to go to a friend's confirmation on Sunday morning. I've visited there before so I knew the train was fairly quick from London, and that you couldn't book tickets in advance. I therefore didn't check train times until Saturday, at which point I discovered that there were no trains between London and Northants on this particular Sunday. There was a replacement bus service but it didn't get in til 10.10 and the service was at 10.15. No problem, I thought, it's not that far away, I'll get a coach... and then found that coaches from Victoria don't start until 9am on Sundays, and it's a 2 hour journey. They'll let you travel from Northants to London early on the weekend, but not the other direction. Hmm... Next tactic was to see if I could travel from Oxford. Yes I could, but not before 9am... Finally I had the inspired thought that coaches run all night to airports, and checked Heathrow. A 7.10 bus would get me there on time, there was just the small matter of actually getting to Heathrow, which is 2 bus rides away from where I live... hence the getting up at 4.45am. Moral of the story... don't have friends who live in Northampton.
Tuesday, 29 May 2007
Is it just me??
29 May 2007
Is it just me?
Just came across the following statement in a well respected journal (The Lancet):
"The Asian category has a wide geographical variability in its interpretation. Even within the same population, different constructions of the term might exist.7 In the UK, Asian usually refers to "brown" Asians. In the USA, Asian is typically used to describe, "yellow" Asians."
Is it just me, or is that the worse possible way they could have described the difference between use of the term Asian in the UK and USA? Well, perhaps not the worst possible way, but probably the worst way that would still be printed. It sounds like something from the eugenics movement.
Is it just me?
Just came across the following statement in a well respected journal (The Lancet):
"The Asian category has a wide geographical variability in its interpretation. Even within the same population, different constructions of the term might exist.7 In the UK, Asian usually refers to "brown" Asians. In the USA, Asian is typically used to describe, "yellow" Asians."
Is it just me, or is that the worse possible way they could have described the difference between use of the term Asian in the UK and USA? Well, perhaps not the worst possible way, but probably the worst way that would still be printed. It sounds like something from the eugenics movement.
Monday, 28 May 2007
Computers
28 May 2007
Computer crises
I needed to work today, because I've got a day off this week to have a wisdom tooth removed. However my computer equipment had different ideas. My laptop and desktop decided to stop working on the same day, meaning that I spent approximately:
7 hours trying to fix it including uninstalling and reinstalling the same programme 3 times
1.5 hours swearing and throwing things around the flat
1 hour doing a piece of work the first time
45 minutes re-doing the same piece of work because it didn't save even though it said it had
A further 45 minutes faffing around designing a poster without getting round to putting in any content.
I'll have to hide from my supervisor tomorrow while I do what I was supposed to do today. Could be a small problem during our meeting at 2.30pm, but I plan to take precautions - a fake moustache and glasses should do it.
Computer crises
I needed to work today, because I've got a day off this week to have a wisdom tooth removed. However my computer equipment had different ideas. My laptop and desktop decided to stop working on the same day, meaning that I spent approximately:
7 hours trying to fix it including uninstalling and reinstalling the same programme 3 times
1.5 hours swearing and throwing things around the flat
1 hour doing a piece of work the first time
45 minutes re-doing the same piece of work because it didn't save even though it said it had
A further 45 minutes faffing around designing a poster without getting round to putting in any content.
I'll have to hide from my supervisor tomorrow while I do what I was supposed to do today. Could be a small problem during our meeting at 2.30pm, but I plan to take precautions - a fake moustache and glasses should do it.
Thursday, 24 May 2007
24 May
24 May 2007
Update to the update on my mum's house
I can report that this evening I scrolled through 311 houses for sale within a 5 mile radius of my flat. Of those my mum decided to save 42, not a bad percentage. She was highly indignant that the estate agents she visited today hadn't offered her some of the houses on the website. I kept saying soothingly 'perhaps it isn't updated that often'. She however is convinced it was a plot to persuade her to buy a more expensive house that they've been unable to get rid of. She could well be right. She was also concerned that most of the bungalows were offered as vacant possession, most probably meaning the former owner died. I think she wondered if owning a bungalow might lead directly to sudden death.... By the end I felt like the search process was more likely to lead to sudden death - we were both slumped over the desk, eyes glazed, muttering 'keep', 'don't keep', 'keep', 'keep', 'don't keep'.
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Who would work in the city?
Just picked up an email from a friend who's a lawyer at a city firm. Sent from her work address, she said 'well, it's getting late, I'd better head home'. It was sent at QUARTER TO 1 in the morning.... This now joins the other 2675 reasons why I didn't even try working in that kind of job - I need to do my cleaning at 12.45am, I can't possibly still be at work then!
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Update on my mum's house
I got a text message yesterday to tell me that my mum has had an offer on her house. This creates a small problem, because she gave up looking for houses 'because there was no point finding one she liked if she didn't have a buyer for her house'. Now she's decided that the world wide interweb net is the only way to look at a load of houses quickly, so is coming round to my flat tonight to use the computer. The request was phrased in that way, but in fact she'll come round and watch me use the computer, because crawling round to each individual estate agent on our knees would probably be quicker than my mum using the internet.
Update to the update on my mum's house
I can report that this evening I scrolled through 311 houses for sale within a 5 mile radius of my flat. Of those my mum decided to save 42, not a bad percentage. She was highly indignant that the estate agents she visited today hadn't offered her some of the houses on the website. I kept saying soothingly 'perhaps it isn't updated that often'. She however is convinced it was a plot to persuade her to buy a more expensive house that they've been unable to get rid of. She could well be right. She was also concerned that most of the bungalows were offered as vacant possession, most probably meaning the former owner died. I think she wondered if owning a bungalow might lead directly to sudden death.... By the end I felt like the search process was more likely to lead to sudden death - we were both slumped over the desk, eyes glazed, muttering 'keep', 'don't keep', 'keep', 'keep', 'don't keep'.
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Who would work in the city?
Just picked up an email from a friend who's a lawyer at a city firm. Sent from her work address, she said 'well, it's getting late, I'd better head home'. It was sent at QUARTER TO 1 in the morning.... This now joins the other 2675 reasons why I didn't even try working in that kind of job - I need to do my cleaning at 12.45am, I can't possibly still be at work then!
10:36 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Update on my mum's house
I got a text message yesterday to tell me that my mum has had an offer on her house. This creates a small problem, because she gave up looking for houses 'because there was no point finding one she liked if she didn't have a buyer for her house'. Now she's decided that the world wide interweb net is the only way to look at a load of houses quickly, so is coming round to my flat tonight to use the computer. The request was phrased in that way, but in fact she'll come round and watch me use the computer, because crawling round to each individual estate agent on our knees would probably be quicker than my mum using the internet.
Tuesday, 22 May 2007
Bowling along
22 May 2007
Bowling along.... Current mood: awake
I've been bowling tonight and am pleased to announce that I got the top score. This is not as impressive as it sounds, since it was almost entirely due to luck and the fact that we played the game with the bumpers down. This meant it was almost impossible to get 0, a score that I would normally be well acquainted with, especially since almost all my points were scored after bouncing off the bumpers. It was interesting to see what the people who had bowled more than once before thought about having the bumpers down - some people thought it was great, and the grouchy gits in the corner thought it was cheating and missed the point of playing. I naturally sided with the grouchy old gits....
I also threw caution to the wind and had a cup of coffee after 6pm. Talk about excitement - playing with the bumpers down! Drinking coffee! That's the kind of rock and roll girl I am... This is also why I'm writing a blog at 11.30pm. I do find it a bit worrying that a late coffee on an empty stomach has the same effect on me as binge drinking has on other people (haven't we all sent a caffeinated text to the wrong person at 2am? No, just me then?), but I console myself with the thought that it's cheap, legal, and doesn't make me throw up...
Bowling along.... Current mood: awake
I've been bowling tonight and am pleased to announce that I got the top score. This is not as impressive as it sounds, since it was almost entirely due to luck and the fact that we played the game with the bumpers down. This meant it was almost impossible to get 0, a score that I would normally be well acquainted with, especially since almost all my points were scored after bouncing off the bumpers. It was interesting to see what the people who had bowled more than once before thought about having the bumpers down - some people thought it was great, and the grouchy gits in the corner thought it was cheating and missed the point of playing. I naturally sided with the grouchy old gits....
I also threw caution to the wind and had a cup of coffee after 6pm. Talk about excitement - playing with the bumpers down! Drinking coffee! That's the kind of rock and roll girl I am... This is also why I'm writing a blog at 11.30pm. I do find it a bit worrying that a late coffee on an empty stomach has the same effect on me as binge drinking has on other people (haven't we all sent a caffeinated text to the wrong person at 2am? No, just me then?), but I console myself with the thought that it's cheap, legal, and doesn't make me throw up...
Monday, 14 May 2007
Random thoughts
14 May 2007
random thoughts Current mood: chipper
I don't have much time, but a couple of random thoughts.
1. Who on earth are all these people reading this blog- or at least visiting the page, even if not reading it? I've only given the address out to about 10 people, and I can't believe they're all visiting the page several times a day desperate to find out what's been happening to my flatmate's goldfish etc. So if you're one of the mystery visitors, hello, why not give me a wave and leave a comment?!
2. I forgot that today had been appointed 'departmental photograph' day. If I'd remembered I might have worn a slightly less lurid top, and I definitely would've brought some heavy duty frizz ease with me. I have big hair, in fact very very big hair, at the best of times, let alone on a windy and rainy day. We did get the opportunity to look at the photo before it was printed, but it would have felt a bit too vain to ask her to re-take it - the service is really for taking medical images of actual sick people, which is probably a little more serious that the departmental who's who board.
random thoughts Current mood: chipper
I don't have much time, but a couple of random thoughts.
1. Who on earth are all these people reading this blog- or at least visiting the page, even if not reading it? I've only given the address out to about 10 people, and I can't believe they're all visiting the page several times a day desperate to find out what's been happening to my flatmate's goldfish etc. So if you're one of the mystery visitors, hello, why not give me a wave and leave a comment?!
2. I forgot that today had been appointed 'departmental photograph' day. If I'd remembered I might have worn a slightly less lurid top, and I definitely would've brought some heavy duty frizz ease with me. I have big hair, in fact very very big hair, at the best of times, let alone on a windy and rainy day. We did get the opportunity to look at the photo before it was printed, but it would have felt a bit too vain to ask her to re-take it - the service is really for taking medical images of actual sick people, which is probably a little more serious that the departmental who's who board.
Thursday, 10 May 2007
10 May
10 May 2007
tony blair
Pleased to note that Tony Blair first became prime minister on my mum's birthday 10 years ago and will step down on my birthday this year. I'm sure this is a sign... of... something...!!??!
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graduation
Yesterday was my MSc graduation, an opportunity to pay large amounts of money to flounce around in a big flappy gown and worry about tripping up the steps onto the stage. Unlike my first graduation (yes, I'm collecting them), my grandma was too frail to come, meaning that the assembled masses missed out on the once in a lifetime opportunity of witnessing an octogenarian in an electric blue suit making inappropriate comments in a stage whisper that's louder than most people's normal speaking voices (she's deaf). Best comment from last time was "Oh my gawd, there's another lot of them, we'll be here all day", to which my mum's embarrassed reply was "No, they're the same ones, they've just come back in."
The electric blue suit did have it's advantages however, since it was easy to spot where they were sitting amongst the sea of grey and black office suits that everyone else was wearing. It would have been more difficult to spot them this time, as my mum and sister steadfastly refused to wear neon clothing, had I not accidentally got them seated in the disabled section. They had front row seats, and a whole row to themselves, and seats that swiveled round so that people with mobility problems don't have to get up to let people past... This happened because my mum genuinely does have severe vertigo and a minor eyesight problem.... I put in a request for them to be seated as close to the ground as possible on this basis (missing out the word minor), and it was evidently taken as a request for accessible seating... Ah well... it was probably a good thing in the end, the seats obviously weren't needed by anyone else, and the families of the people sitting either side of me were up on the 4th floor balcony - my sister possibly would've had to carry mum down from there.
tony blair
Pleased to note that Tony Blair first became prime minister on my mum's birthday 10 years ago and will step down on my birthday this year. I'm sure this is a sign... of... something...!!??!
16:41 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
graduation
Yesterday was my MSc graduation, an opportunity to pay large amounts of money to flounce around in a big flappy gown and worry about tripping up the steps onto the stage. Unlike my first graduation (yes, I'm collecting them), my grandma was too frail to come, meaning that the assembled masses missed out on the once in a lifetime opportunity of witnessing an octogenarian in an electric blue suit making inappropriate comments in a stage whisper that's louder than most people's normal speaking voices (she's deaf). Best comment from last time was "Oh my gawd, there's another lot of them, we'll be here all day", to which my mum's embarrassed reply was "No, they're the same ones, they've just come back in."
The electric blue suit did have it's advantages however, since it was easy to spot where they were sitting amongst the sea of grey and black office suits that everyone else was wearing. It would have been more difficult to spot them this time, as my mum and sister steadfastly refused to wear neon clothing, had I not accidentally got them seated in the disabled section. They had front row seats, and a whole row to themselves, and seats that swiveled round so that people with mobility problems don't have to get up to let people past... This happened because my mum genuinely does have severe vertigo and a minor eyesight problem.... I put in a request for them to be seated as close to the ground as possible on this basis (missing out the word minor), and it was evidently taken as a request for accessible seating... Ah well... it was probably a good thing in the end, the seats obviously weren't needed by anyone else, and the families of the people sitting either side of me were up on the 4th floor balcony - my sister possibly would've had to carry mum down from there.
Sunday, 6 May 2007
6 MAy
06 May 2007
60th birthday continued
The 60th birthday that my mum wasn't celebrating continued yesterday with an outing to the Isle of Wight. Going there is always like going back to the 1950s. On the bus I heard a woman resident say that she hadn't been to one of the main island towns for a few years - bearing in mind that the island is something like 20 miles long by 15 miles wide, this seemed like quite an impressive achievement.
I'd looked up what was happening there yesterday, and discovered it was the first day of their walking festival. It was being opened by a speed dating ramble. There was also going to be a speed dating dog walk. I think it was the owners looking for a date not the dogs, but I'm not certain. I did suggest that speed dating ramble to my mum, but she wasn't keen. I'm not sure whether she was more alarmed at the thought of the speed dating or the rambling. At Bonus Lady's suggestion I did wear my glittery stiletto walking boots just in case, but I didn't spot anyone giving them admiring glances.
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60th
My mum was 60 this week. I was under strict instructions not to tell anyone or make a fuss, an instruction disregarded by her work colleagues. One of them in particular has spent the last 3 months telling every patient that came in to the dental surgery that they were 'celebrating a big birthday this year', and on the day itself canvassed every patient to see if any of them would sing happy birthday (they wouldn't). Her colleagues also decided it would be a good idea for me to get my mum to go out to a 'family' meal, and her work friends would be there when we arrived. Sounds quite reasonable, except that my mum has always said she'd rather die than have a surprise birthday party - and I don't think she's exaggerating. So after a little surreptitious texting of my sister, we decided that the thing to do was agree to the meal but tell my mum as well, to remove the alarming surprise element.
This plan worked fine, although it did test my mum's acting skills on the night. We also couldn't tell my grandma, for fear that she'd announce something along the lines of "yes, they told me you'd be here but we had to pretend it's a surprise." My gran doesn't do subtlety. I'm not sure she ever did, but it's definitely got worse as she's got older.She also spent the whole evening calling my mum's boss 'the guvnor', with my mum hissing 'she's called the DENTIST' at intervals. Come to think of it, my gran may have become more Cockney as well as less subtle as she's got older...
60th birthday continued
The 60th birthday that my mum wasn't celebrating continued yesterday with an outing to the Isle of Wight. Going there is always like going back to the 1950s. On the bus I heard a woman resident say that she hadn't been to one of the main island towns for a few years - bearing in mind that the island is something like 20 miles long by 15 miles wide, this seemed like quite an impressive achievement.
I'd looked up what was happening there yesterday, and discovered it was the first day of their walking festival. It was being opened by a speed dating ramble. There was also going to be a speed dating dog walk. I think it was the owners looking for a date not the dogs, but I'm not certain. I did suggest that speed dating ramble to my mum, but she wasn't keen. I'm not sure whether she was more alarmed at the thought of the speed dating or the rambling. At Bonus Lady's suggestion I did wear my glittery stiletto walking boots just in case, but I didn't spot anyone giving them admiring glances.
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60th
My mum was 60 this week. I was under strict instructions not to tell anyone or make a fuss, an instruction disregarded by her work colleagues. One of them in particular has spent the last 3 months telling every patient that came in to the dental surgery that they were 'celebrating a big birthday this year', and on the day itself canvassed every patient to see if any of them would sing happy birthday (they wouldn't). Her colleagues also decided it would be a good idea for me to get my mum to go out to a 'family' meal, and her work friends would be there when we arrived. Sounds quite reasonable, except that my mum has always said she'd rather die than have a surprise birthday party - and I don't think she's exaggerating. So after a little surreptitious texting of my sister, we decided that the thing to do was agree to the meal but tell my mum as well, to remove the alarming surprise element.
This plan worked fine, although it did test my mum's acting skills on the night. We also couldn't tell my grandma, for fear that she'd announce something along the lines of "yes, they told me you'd be here but we had to pretend it's a surprise." My gran doesn't do subtlety. I'm not sure she ever did, but it's definitely got worse as she's got older.She also spent the whole evening calling my mum's boss 'the guvnor', with my mum hissing 'she's called the DENTIST' at intervals. Come to think of it, my gran may have become more Cockney as well as less subtle as she's got older...
Tuesday, 1 May 2007
1 MAy
01 May 2007
Blogging against disablism
As I'm sure everyone knows, today is interesting for 3 reasons:1. It's the 10 year anniversary of Tony Blair becoming prime minister 2. It's my mum's 60th birthday 3. It's blogging against disablism day Blogging against disablism dayThere's a snazzy image that goes with it, but I can't work out how to get it on to here - so you'll just have to go and have a look for yourself!
I'm planning to ignore 1), might blog more about 2) after tonight's birthday dinner, and like the good disability activist that I am, join in with 3) by blogging (briefly!) about some random thoughts on disablism.
Disablism is discrimination against people on the grounds of disability. Just like we have the race relations act that supposedly protects people from racism, the disability discrimination act is meant to protect the rights of disabled people. Leaving aside the question of whether either act actually manages what it sets out to do, social attitudes are at least as important as the law. Recent reports have shown a) a high level of social discrimination against disabled people (questions were along the lines of 'how would you feel if someone with X impairment moved in next door/married your sister) and b) that employers basically think it's too much effort to employ disabled people because "they don't know what words to use to describe disability". Right.
Part of last nights housegroup discussion about Selfish Young People went on to talk about how people don't have any time, that they're constantly busy with jobs, kids, houses etc. And though the discussion didn't go there, one of my big things is that people use this 'i'm so busy' thing as a marker of status, that the 'correct' answer to 'how are you' is 'oh, stressed, lots going on, you know'. But last night one person sat up and said, "I have too much time, what is there to do?" And weirdly that felt like a courageous thing she did - which is ridiculous, when did it get to be brave to admit you're not busy?
This may be a random leap of thinking, but to me the last 2 paragraphs are connected. When society only or mainly values one particular way of being (i.e. the multi tasking superhuman), people who can't for some reason live up to that ideal are going to be seen as less valuable. Obviously some disabled people are great at being superhuman multitaskers, but some aren't. Some disabilities mean that people do things a different way, or they do it a bit slower, or they need some assistance doing it. But instead of being seen as different ways of getting to the same place, it's seen as not quite 'right'. We've started valuing people as human doings, not human beings. I have friends who feel that they're not important, that they lack value, just because they don't have a salaried job... How does that happen??
Admittedly these thoughts are coming mainly from my experience in the worlds of mental health and learning disability, both of which often carry an even greater stigma than physical disability, so I might be a bit biased. But I do find it quite worrying when even in a church setting, the talk immediately turns to what people should be doing (generally for the church or community, depending on the christian persuasion!) - we talk about a faith that says every person has innate value, of a creator who knows the whole of creation intimately, of loving god and other people, and then get side tracked into focusing on what people are or aren't doing. That's a risky strategy in my opinion - it's letting culture dictate faith... Not that I'm arguing that christians should just sit around navel gazing, but that takes us away from disablism and will have to wait for another post I think!
10:10 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Blogging against disablism
As I'm sure everyone knows, today is interesting for 3 reasons:1. It's the 10 year anniversary of Tony Blair becoming prime minister 2. It's my mum's 60th birthday 3. It's blogging against disablism day Blogging against disablism dayThere's a snazzy image that goes with it, but I can't work out how to get it on to here - so you'll just have to go and have a look for yourself!
I'm planning to ignore 1), might blog more about 2) after tonight's birthday dinner, and like the good disability activist that I am, join in with 3) by blogging (briefly!) about some random thoughts on disablism.
Disablism is discrimination against people on the grounds of disability. Just like we have the race relations act that supposedly protects people from racism, the disability discrimination act is meant to protect the rights of disabled people. Leaving aside the question of whether either act actually manages what it sets out to do, social attitudes are at least as important as the law. Recent reports have shown a) a high level of social discrimination against disabled people (questions were along the lines of 'how would you feel if someone with X impairment moved in next door/married your sister) and b) that employers basically think it's too much effort to employ disabled people because "they don't know what words to use to describe disability". Right.
Part of last nights housegroup discussion about Selfish Young People went on to talk about how people don't have any time, that they're constantly busy with jobs, kids, houses etc. And though the discussion didn't go there, one of my big things is that people use this 'i'm so busy' thing as a marker of status, that the 'correct' answer to 'how are you' is 'oh, stressed, lots going on, you know'. But last night one person sat up and said, "I have too much time, what is there to do?" And weirdly that felt like a courageous thing she did - which is ridiculous, when did it get to be brave to admit you're not busy?
This may be a random leap of thinking, but to me the last 2 paragraphs are connected. When society only or mainly values one particular way of being (i.e. the multi tasking superhuman), people who can't for some reason live up to that ideal are going to be seen as less valuable. Obviously some disabled people are great at being superhuman multitaskers, but some aren't. Some disabilities mean that people do things a different way, or they do it a bit slower, or they need some assistance doing it. But instead of being seen as different ways of getting to the same place, it's seen as not quite 'right'. We've started valuing people as human doings, not human beings. I have friends who feel that they're not important, that they lack value, just because they don't have a salaried job... How does that happen??
Admittedly these thoughts are coming mainly from my experience in the worlds of mental health and learning disability, both of which often carry an even greater stigma than physical disability, so I might be a bit biased. But I do find it quite worrying when even in a church setting, the talk immediately turns to what people should be doing (generally for the church or community, depending on the christian persuasion!) - we talk about a faith that says every person has innate value, of a creator who knows the whole of creation intimately, of loving god and other people, and then get side tracked into focusing on what people are or aren't doing. That's a risky strategy in my opinion - it's letting culture dictate faith... Not that I'm arguing that christians should just sit around navel gazing, but that takes us away from disablism and will have to wait for another post I think!
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Monday, 30 April 2007
supervisor woes
30 Apr 2007
Supervisor woes.... Current mood: busy
My supervisor has a disconcertingly selective memory. Quite often he'll look at something I've done and say 'why have you done that?' - to which the answer is generally 'because you told me to'. Alternatively he'll ask why I haven't done something, even though the request for me to do it never actually made it out of his head. At those moments I'm never quite sure to what extent I should insist on my version of events... What;s the etiquette here when dealing with a superior?! It;s made worse by the fact that his scattiness is highly selective - when I had a boss who was truly vague I knew what I could get away with, and could tactfully say 'my memory of the situation is this' because she knew she wasn't a details person.
Had a slightly different version of this just now, I met him in the corridor, he asked about a piece of work, and I apologised that it was taking me longer than I'd expected. His reply was that it was fine for me to show him half finished work, and to discuss ideas with him. What a nice helpful supervisor I hear you saying... Well yes, except that I tried exactly that with this same piece of work a couple of weeks ago. I emailed him a rough draft and booked a meeting a few days later to discuss it - not only had he not read the draft (and still hasn't), he used the whole meeting to discuss a different piece of work, only giving me a solitary piece of advise about the original work - "make sure it's focused". Well, yes, thanks, the focus was really what i was hoping to discuss..
Supervisor woes.... Current mood: busy
My supervisor has a disconcertingly selective memory. Quite often he'll look at something I've done and say 'why have you done that?' - to which the answer is generally 'because you told me to'. Alternatively he'll ask why I haven't done something, even though the request for me to do it never actually made it out of his head. At those moments I'm never quite sure to what extent I should insist on my version of events... What;s the etiquette here when dealing with a superior?! It;s made worse by the fact that his scattiness is highly selective - when I had a boss who was truly vague I knew what I could get away with, and could tactfully say 'my memory of the situation is this' because she knew she wasn't a details person.
Had a slightly different version of this just now, I met him in the corridor, he asked about a piece of work, and I apologised that it was taking me longer than I'd expected. His reply was that it was fine for me to show him half finished work, and to discuss ideas with him. What a nice helpful supervisor I hear you saying... Well yes, except that I tried exactly that with this same piece of work a couple of weeks ago. I emailed him a rough draft and booked a meeting a few days later to discuss it - not only had he not read the draft (and still hasn't), he used the whole meeting to discuss a different piece of work, only giving me a solitary piece of advise about the original work - "make sure it's focused". Well, yes, thanks, the focus was really what i was hoping to discuss..
Friday, 13 April 2007
13-23 April
17 Apr 2007
Herbie lives again
Bizarre accident happened on the street below my office today. Was just contemplating whether I'd done enough work to justify eating lunch (answer: no, but I ate it anyway) when I heard a skid and loud bang outside. It's a noisy road anyway, but this sounded a bit louder than normal so I went to the window to have a look. I was just in time to see a red car reverse at speed across the road into the side of a parked car, then drive forward into a driveway and reverse again into the same car. I was thinking road rage, or, given that I work in a hospital, sudden death or something at the wheel. It looked like something out of Herbie. But apparently not, because the car then stopped in the middle of the road and the female driver got out, looking v much alive. A few minutes later 2 police vans, a police car and an ambulance arrrived with their sirens going, stood around for a bit, then went away again. So no idea what happened there... any suggestions to Hammersmith police!
16 Apr 2007
Careers advice
Tonight I was given some unsolicited careers advice. My response to questions about careers have always been vague, I don't have any great plans for the rest of my life, or any ambitions to a high flying career. Something reasonably interesting that pays the bills is good enough as far as I'm concerned. The answer to 'what will you do with your phd' is also a bit tricky. Have another certificate is the real answer, but I can usually fob people off by saying I want to use the research skills in the NHS or charity sector. Tonight that answer didn't suffice. The man in question was determined that I should have An Ambition and enthusiastically suggested possibilities. He pursued the idea of being A Surgeon with some enthusiasm, not even put off by my admission that I'm extremely squeamish and would pass out, not to mention the problem of funding medical school. His next suggestion was a Director of Public Health, ignoring the lack of a medical degree and ambition to be a director of anything, and we finished up eith being a Researcher for Glaxo Smith Kline (no chance, I'd rather eat my own arms than work for big pharma). Fortunately he ran out of steam at this point, but not before telling me that just doing whatever comes along is Very Unsatisfactory. O well....
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13 Apr 2007
remote control crises
My grandma has bought a new tv. I spent 2 hours earlier this week setting it up and teaching her how to use the remote control (i.e. volume and going up and down the channels). I heard today that she hasn't used the tv since, because I "didn't spend enough time showing her how to use it." Should've known it'd be my fault! I wouldn't mind, but she successfully used a remote control with her old tv for the last 10 years. And even though I've taught people with learning disabilities (including a *long* 2 hours a week for 12 weeks teaching someone to mop a floor - he needed reminding every 3 minutes to actually mop and not just lean on his mop sighing loudly at the injustice of life) somehow I just can't quite find the patience to go round there tonight...
Herbie lives again
Bizarre accident happened on the street below my office today. Was just contemplating whether I'd done enough work to justify eating lunch (answer: no, but I ate it anyway) when I heard a skid and loud bang outside. It's a noisy road anyway, but this sounded a bit louder than normal so I went to the window to have a look. I was just in time to see a red car reverse at speed across the road into the side of a parked car, then drive forward into a driveway and reverse again into the same car. I was thinking road rage, or, given that I work in a hospital, sudden death or something at the wheel. It looked like something out of Herbie. But apparently not, because the car then stopped in the middle of the road and the female driver got out, looking v much alive. A few minutes later 2 police vans, a police car and an ambulance arrrived with their sirens going, stood around for a bit, then went away again. So no idea what happened there... any suggestions to Hammersmith police!
16 Apr 2007
Careers advice
Tonight I was given some unsolicited careers advice. My response to questions about careers have always been vague, I don't have any great plans for the rest of my life, or any ambitions to a high flying career. Something reasonably interesting that pays the bills is good enough as far as I'm concerned. The answer to 'what will you do with your phd' is also a bit tricky. Have another certificate is the real answer, but I can usually fob people off by saying I want to use the research skills in the NHS or charity sector. Tonight that answer didn't suffice. The man in question was determined that I should have An Ambition and enthusiastically suggested possibilities. He pursued the idea of being A Surgeon with some enthusiasm, not even put off by my admission that I'm extremely squeamish and would pass out, not to mention the problem of funding medical school. His next suggestion was a Director of Public Health, ignoring the lack of a medical degree and ambition to be a director of anything, and we finished up eith being a Researcher for Glaxo Smith Kline (no chance, I'd rather eat my own arms than work for big pharma). Fortunately he ran out of steam at this point, but not before telling me that just doing whatever comes along is Very Unsatisfactory. O well....
23:27 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
13 Apr 2007
remote control crises
My grandma has bought a new tv. I spent 2 hours earlier this week setting it up and teaching her how to use the remote control (i.e. volume and going up and down the channels). I heard today that she hasn't used the tv since, because I "didn't spend enough time showing her how to use it." Should've known it'd be my fault! I wouldn't mind, but she successfully used a remote control with her old tv for the last 10 years. And even though I've taught people with learning disabilities (including a *long* 2 hours a week for 12 weeks teaching someone to mop a floor - he needed reminding every 3 minutes to actually mop and not just lean on his mop sighing loudly at the injustice of life) somehow I just can't quite find the patience to go round there tonight...
Friday, 16 March 2007
16 - 22 March
22 Mar 2007
Migration
Was sitting on the train on the way back from Southampton this week, when I saw an interesting letter in the newspaper about migration. It was from an academic (who's the subject of a petition to his university calling for him to be removed) defending his views on migration, and explaining how his membership of the Galton Institute and Migration Watch had nothing to do with his teaching. All quite interesting... but it got v interesting when I looked at the name and realised he was one of my undergraduate tutors.
He did teach us demography, but I don't remember any objectionable views. The only thing I can remember in relation to migration was that for our finals he sent us some recent papers about the EU decision to encourage mass-migration to address the ageing population structure. He may have suggested it was a bad idea, I can't remember. But the academic I remember and the one in the paper really don't correspond. He was the most traditionally 'academic' tutor we had, and barely seemed to function in the real world. He was late to our first meeting because he'd just got off the plane from somewhere important and exotic, and turned up wearing cycle clips and a cycle helmet (had he cycled from the important/exotic place we wondered?). He gave us references for our essays at top speed off the top of his head, and his office was so messy that a pile of papers in braille (very thick pile, A3 pages) were lost in there for a whole term. He seemed entirely inoffensive, except for the excessively fat text book that he'd written and which he expected us to have read and absorbed in its entirety.
So when do political views become so offensive that they shouldn't be allowed? Are political views relevant to your job? And when both sides of a political argument say they have evidence on their side, how do you judge between them? I have no idea whether this guy is racist or not, but I do know that he'll have evidence (good or otherwise) to back up his case.
http://education.independent.co.uk/news/article2341342.ece
17:52 - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
17 Mar 2007
no disaster
Pleased to report that the 666 birthmark on my back wasn't revealed to the group today. It was actually good to renew my acquaintance with someone I knew when we were undergraduates, and we both politely refrained from mentioning the ex-friend. It left quite a gap in the conversation though, bit of an 'ignore the elephant in the room' situation. On the plus side, she said 'yes I was a bit surprised to see you here, I remembered you being with the jesus army. You always were a bit of a heretic though." I may not be that keen on being thought evil, but am always pleased to be called a heretic - I like to keep people on their toes! And to be fair, I may have been with the jesus army last time we met, but she was going off to be a nun. So we're probably about equal in the oddness stakes.
23:26 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
16 Mar 2007
Evil edna
I'm going to a church related workshop tomorrow. Quite looking forward to it, except that I've found out I slightly know one of the other people going. This would usually be quite a good thing, but the context in which I know this person is a bit... complicated... She's the friend of an ex-friend. A very ex-friend. And will therefore have heard exactly how evil I am. When meeting a group of new people it's always good to know that one of them thinks you're the anti-christ - adds a little extra adrenaline to the procedings. I'll let you know how it goes - I'm planning to develop selective amnesia if necessary.
23:37 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Strange...
My head of department just wandered into my office "just to see if I was allright"... this is v strange. Am usually lucky to see him once a month and he doesn't generally even speak if I bump into him in the corridor. Kept expecting him to get to the point and ask me to do something/give me a deadline/tell me my last article was rubbish but he didn't... He didn't even seem to have much to say. V odd. And leaves me a bit paranoid, thinking, what was all that about? Suppose it's just about plausible that he was just being nice...!
15:56 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Migration
Was sitting on the train on the way back from Southampton this week, when I saw an interesting letter in the newspaper about migration. It was from an academic (who's the subject of a petition to his university calling for him to be removed) defending his views on migration, and explaining how his membership of the Galton Institute and Migration Watch had nothing to do with his teaching. All quite interesting... but it got v interesting when I looked at the name and realised he was one of my undergraduate tutors.
He did teach us demography, but I don't remember any objectionable views. The only thing I can remember in relation to migration was that for our finals he sent us some recent papers about the EU decision to encourage mass-migration to address the ageing population structure. He may have suggested it was a bad idea, I can't remember. But the academic I remember and the one in the paper really don't correspond. He was the most traditionally 'academic' tutor we had, and barely seemed to function in the real world. He was late to our first meeting because he'd just got off the plane from somewhere important and exotic, and turned up wearing cycle clips and a cycle helmet (had he cycled from the important/exotic place we wondered?). He gave us references for our essays at top speed off the top of his head, and his office was so messy that a pile of papers in braille (very thick pile, A3 pages) were lost in there for a whole term. He seemed entirely inoffensive, except for the excessively fat text book that he'd written and which he expected us to have read and absorbed in its entirety.
So when do political views become so offensive that they shouldn't be allowed? Are political views relevant to your job? And when both sides of a political argument say they have evidence on their side, how do you judge between them? I have no idea whether this guy is racist or not, but I do know that he'll have evidence (good or otherwise) to back up his case.
http://education.independent.co.uk/news/article2341342.ece
17:52 - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
17 Mar 2007
no disaster
Pleased to report that the 666 birthmark on my back wasn't revealed to the group today. It was actually good to renew my acquaintance with someone I knew when we were undergraduates, and we both politely refrained from mentioning the ex-friend. It left quite a gap in the conversation though, bit of an 'ignore the elephant in the room' situation. On the plus side, she said 'yes I was a bit surprised to see you here, I remembered you being with the jesus army. You always were a bit of a heretic though." I may not be that keen on being thought evil, but am always pleased to be called a heretic - I like to keep people on their toes! And to be fair, I may have been with the jesus army last time we met, but she was going off to be a nun. So we're probably about equal in the oddness stakes.
23:26 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
16 Mar 2007
Evil edna
I'm going to a church related workshop tomorrow. Quite looking forward to it, except that I've found out I slightly know one of the other people going. This would usually be quite a good thing, but the context in which I know this person is a bit... complicated... She's the friend of an ex-friend. A very ex-friend. And will therefore have heard exactly how evil I am. When meeting a group of new people it's always good to know that one of them thinks you're the anti-christ - adds a little extra adrenaline to the procedings. I'll let you know how it goes - I'm planning to develop selective amnesia if necessary.
23:37 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Strange...
My head of department just wandered into my office "just to see if I was allright"... this is v strange. Am usually lucky to see him once a month and he doesn't generally even speak if I bump into him in the corridor. Kept expecting him to get to the point and ask me to do something/give me a deadline/tell me my last article was rubbish but he didn't... He didn't even seem to have much to say. V odd. And leaves me a bit paranoid, thinking, what was all that about? Suppose it's just about plausible that he was just being nice...!
15:56 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Friday, 9 March 2007
09-15 March
15 Mar 2007
communication skills
Had 'communication skills' training yesterday. Personally I think it was misnamed (this is becoming a regular theme) and should have been called something like 'making me feel even worse about presentations than I already do' training. Normally on the kind of things you have to introduce yourself to the room, sometimes the trainer thinks they're being radical and unusual by getting you to introduce someone else. Yesterday we had to introduce someone else by standing at the front and giving a presentation about them. Each presentation was followed by a discussion and the dreaded 'feedback' about your presentation. We were also asked what we would do differently next time (book into a different course?). This exercise was quite unique in that it managed to turn something I can usually manage quite calmly and happily into something that had me in a cold sweat hyperventilating in the corner as I waited anxiously for my turn.
We were also told things like 'if you're nervous make sure you prepare well, are confident in your subject, and check out the venue'. This helpful advice was followed up by making us do an ad hoc presentation about cot death, a subject we knew little about, with no time to prepare, and an overhead projector (guaranteed to bring me out in a panic because I know from experience that everyone can see the transparency shaking as you desperately try to get it lined up). We were running short on time, so we didn't get any real feedback about this presentation, except to make the point that you give a different presentation to different audiences. Well, yes.... but I think I could have grasped that point just as well without the accompanying anxiety.
10:44 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
14 Mar 2007
Update on the world's biggest boy
Ok it's not an update on the boy himself (except to say that they never really worked out why he was so big but were very suspicious of the mum), but an interesting fact... There are sumo wrestling clubs in Russia. Enough of them apparently for one to be described as 'one of the best Russian clubs'. (Though I suppose technically just 2 clubs would be enough to give one of them that title.) Am I the only one that finds Russian sumo wrestlers a weird thought?
0:00 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
13 Mar 2007
the biggest boy in the world Current mood: geeky
I have a confession... instead of reading about the philosophy of education (don't ask...) I'm watching the documentary "the world's biggest boy". It's about a 7 year old boy who weighs 16 stone. Now obviously that's v large, but I disagree with their title. I bet there are 14 year old boys who weigh more than that... and is 'biggest' really the same as 'heaviest'? What's their evidence? Moments like these make me realise I really should get out more and think less.
Now back to the philosophy of education... when is schooling education and when is it indoctrination? Answers on a postcard...
22:06 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
10 Mar 2007
house hunting Current mood: restless
Spent most of today snooping round other people's houses. Mrs Defying Gravity Senior (henceforth known for reasons of brevity as mum) has decided to move house, so I joined her for a spot of peering into under stairs cupboards and garages to judge 'the storage space'. Mum find it especially annoying when people on TV home decoration programmes walk in and say things like 'I don't like the carpets' - apparently one shouldn't be that shallow and should instead inspect the quality of the plaster - so we were both trying really hard to find positive things to say. Not knowing much about plaster, after 'mmm it's a nice space' I pretty much ran out, possibly leaving more than one estate agent wondering why my mum was dragging her sulking adult daughter around houses with her. Actually I was kind of wondering that myself...
19:19 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
09 Mar 2007
Mission accomplished
Phone marathon successfully accomplished, although I'm certain that I've missed the one person who actually read the notice and was able to attend, and will have to grovel apologetically on Sunday. Can't be bothered to go to the church just in case tomorrow, grovelling will have to suffice. Mission was made significantly more difficult by 3 things:
1. I was trying to text and watch celebrity fame academy at the same time as phoning round - multi-tasking has never been a particularly strong point of mine, although as a child I occasionally managed to eat dinner, read a book and watch tv at the same time...
2. I hate telephones. Don't know what it is, but am slightly phobic. Frequently give thanks for email and text - a couple of decades previously I really wouldn't have had any friends due to my inability to phone people unless I feel like I've got a good reason. Good as in 'serious misfortune is going to befall someone unless I talk to you and no other type of communication will do.'
3. Numbers 1 and 4 on our landline phone don't really work. You have to push really hard several times with a fingernail, and invariably it thens presses it twice and you have to start all over again. So if you have a 1 or 4 in your number there's even less chance you'll get a call from me. You also have to get the speed of button pressing just right - too fast and it gets confused, too slow and it forgets what you were doing. As you can guess, it's not a v high tech phone and we're not really land line users. Last month our line rental and broadband came to £28 and our call costs were 36p. Tonight's saga has at least convinced me to go out tomorrow and buy a phone that works - and who knows, it might even convince me to use it.
8:15 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Friday night excitement
OK, so it's Friday night finally. What excitement do I have in store this evening? Yes, that's right, I'm phoning every person on the welcoming team at church to tell them not to turn up tomorrow to the non-existent meeting that was accidentally publicised in the parish magazine. I foresee that none of them will have noticed it in the magazine, and telling them about it will lead to great confusion and protracted phone conversations about what the meeting would have been if it had ever been going to happen. I don't know how I cope with the excitement of my life sometimes...
19:09 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
communication skills
Had 'communication skills' training yesterday. Personally I think it was misnamed (this is becoming a regular theme) and should have been called something like 'making me feel even worse about presentations than I already do' training. Normally on the kind of things you have to introduce yourself to the room, sometimes the trainer thinks they're being radical and unusual by getting you to introduce someone else. Yesterday we had to introduce someone else by standing at the front and giving a presentation about them. Each presentation was followed by a discussion and the dreaded 'feedback' about your presentation. We were also asked what we would do differently next time (book into a different course?). This exercise was quite unique in that it managed to turn something I can usually manage quite calmly and happily into something that had me in a cold sweat hyperventilating in the corner as I waited anxiously for my turn.
We were also told things like 'if you're nervous make sure you prepare well, are confident in your subject, and check out the venue'. This helpful advice was followed up by making us do an ad hoc presentation about cot death, a subject we knew little about, with no time to prepare, and an overhead projector (guaranteed to bring me out in a panic because I know from experience that everyone can see the transparency shaking as you desperately try to get it lined up). We were running short on time, so we didn't get any real feedback about this presentation, except to make the point that you give a different presentation to different audiences. Well, yes.... but I think I could have grasped that point just as well without the accompanying anxiety.
10:44 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
14 Mar 2007
Update on the world's biggest boy
Ok it's not an update on the boy himself (except to say that they never really worked out why he was so big but were very suspicious of the mum), but an interesting fact... There are sumo wrestling clubs in Russia. Enough of them apparently for one to be described as 'one of the best Russian clubs'. (Though I suppose technically just 2 clubs would be enough to give one of them that title.) Am I the only one that finds Russian sumo wrestlers a weird thought?
0:00 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
13 Mar 2007
the biggest boy in the world Current mood: geeky
I have a confession... instead of reading about the philosophy of education (don't ask...) I'm watching the documentary "the world's biggest boy". It's about a 7 year old boy who weighs 16 stone. Now obviously that's v large, but I disagree with their title. I bet there are 14 year old boys who weigh more than that... and is 'biggest' really the same as 'heaviest'? What's their evidence? Moments like these make me realise I really should get out more and think less.
Now back to the philosophy of education... when is schooling education and when is it indoctrination? Answers on a postcard...
22:06 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
10 Mar 2007
house hunting Current mood: restless
Spent most of today snooping round other people's houses. Mrs Defying Gravity Senior (henceforth known for reasons of brevity as mum) has decided to move house, so I joined her for a spot of peering into under stairs cupboards and garages to judge 'the storage space'. Mum find it especially annoying when people on TV home decoration programmes walk in and say things like 'I don't like the carpets' - apparently one shouldn't be that shallow and should instead inspect the quality of the plaster - so we were both trying really hard to find positive things to say. Not knowing much about plaster, after 'mmm it's a nice space' I pretty much ran out, possibly leaving more than one estate agent wondering why my mum was dragging her sulking adult daughter around houses with her. Actually I was kind of wondering that myself...
19:19 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
09 Mar 2007
Mission accomplished
Phone marathon successfully accomplished, although I'm certain that I've missed the one person who actually read the notice and was able to attend, and will have to grovel apologetically on Sunday. Can't be bothered to go to the church just in case tomorrow, grovelling will have to suffice. Mission was made significantly more difficult by 3 things:
1. I was trying to text and watch celebrity fame academy at the same time as phoning round - multi-tasking has never been a particularly strong point of mine, although as a child I occasionally managed to eat dinner, read a book and watch tv at the same time...
2. I hate telephones. Don't know what it is, but am slightly phobic. Frequently give thanks for email and text - a couple of decades previously I really wouldn't have had any friends due to my inability to phone people unless I feel like I've got a good reason. Good as in 'serious misfortune is going to befall someone unless I talk to you and no other type of communication will do.'
3. Numbers 1 and 4 on our landline phone don't really work. You have to push really hard several times with a fingernail, and invariably it thens presses it twice and you have to start all over again. So if you have a 1 or 4 in your number there's even less chance you'll get a call from me. You also have to get the speed of button pressing just right - too fast and it gets confused, too slow and it forgets what you were doing. As you can guess, it's not a v high tech phone and we're not really land line users. Last month our line rental and broadband came to £28 and our call costs were 36p. Tonight's saga has at least convinced me to go out tomorrow and buy a phone that works - and who knows, it might even convince me to use it.
8:15 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Friday night excitement
OK, so it's Friday night finally. What excitement do I have in store this evening? Yes, that's right, I'm phoning every person on the welcoming team at church to tell them not to turn up tomorrow to the non-existent meeting that was accidentally publicised in the parish magazine. I foresee that none of them will have noticed it in the magazine, and telling them about it will lead to great confusion and protracted phone conversations about what the meeting would have been if it had ever been going to happen. I don't know how I cope with the excitement of my life sometimes...
19:09 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Thursday, 22 February 2007
22 Feb -3 MArch
Generation gap
Quite sweet and ever so slightly scary example of the generation gap. Older lady from church says to me "When you go home after church on sundays, has your friend [i.e. flatmate] got your sunday lunch ready for you?" Yeah, right.... Even seeing each other between thursday and sunday evenings is pretty rare, and if we wanted to do a roast I think we might have to do it in a wok or something. Clearly she thinks we drift around at home in domestic goddess mode, without pesky children or husbands to get in the way. She'd be seriously disappointed by the reality...
28 Feb 2007
Costa del Solihull was better than expected. I haven't really been to that part of the world very often, but I knew I was out of London when the person next to me on the train was friendly. Had to make an effort to be friendly in return, instead of fixing her with a 'why are you disturbing me I'm listening to my mp3 player you freaky over-friendly commuter' stare.
Also had the interesting experience of realising I've been talking at cross purposes with someone for almost an entire year. What I thought I meant wasn't what he thought I meant. This surely ought to be some kind of record? Hope it doesn't happen in anything important - on my death bed, saying to partner "I never wanted 13 children but I'm glad I had them to make you happy", partner replies "I thought you were the one that wanted 13 children, I would have been happy with a stick insect."...
27 Feb 2007
grumpy old woman alert Current mood: grumpy
Been having a bit of a sense of humour failure lately. More GBH than GSOH. For various reasons this start of an article from the weekend Guardian sums up my mood:
There's an intangible something that radiates from couples still conscious of their coupleness. When it's new enough for each person to be constantly aware of their special, entwined state, yet old enough for them to be entirely comfortable with it, the pair emits a kind of glow that, as I'm sure you know, is really quite tiresome. You sit across the kitchen table, feeling the warmth of them on your face, and think, "One more little arm squeeze or smile at a shared secret, and I'll have to reach over and pour wood varnish into their hair."
But in the morning I'm off to costa del solihull... How do I stand the excitement???
6:47 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
22 Feb 2007
defying gravity Current mood: tired
Someone asked if there's a defying gravity story... Well, it's an obvious choice for me: my hobby is free-running, I do zero gravity research, and I'm a great believer in a secret natural therapy that undoes the effect of gravity on the body.
Truth compels me to add at this point that anyone who knows me would cry with laughter at the thought of me running up walls, my research is on the internet and health, and don't even get me started on alternative medicine. So actually the truth is that I was listening to the song 'defying gravity' when I set up my myspace account. The song's from the musical Wicked, as always the book was better, but the musical is pretty good too.
Defying gravity
Something has changed within me, something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing, too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes: and leap!
It's time to try defying gravity
I think I'll try defying gravity
And you can't pull me down!
I'm through accepting limits 'cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change but till I try, I'll never know!
Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost
Well, if that's love it comes at much too high a cost!
I'd sooner buy defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down...
Quite sweet and ever so slightly scary example of the generation gap. Older lady from church says to me "When you go home after church on sundays, has your friend [i.e. flatmate] got your sunday lunch ready for you?" Yeah, right.... Even seeing each other between thursday and sunday evenings is pretty rare, and if we wanted to do a roast I think we might have to do it in a wok or something. Clearly she thinks we drift around at home in domestic goddess mode, without pesky children or husbands to get in the way. She'd be seriously disappointed by the reality...
28 Feb 2007
Costa del Solihull was better than expected. I haven't really been to that part of the world very often, but I knew I was out of London when the person next to me on the train was friendly. Had to make an effort to be friendly in return, instead of fixing her with a 'why are you disturbing me I'm listening to my mp3 player you freaky over-friendly commuter' stare.
Also had the interesting experience of realising I've been talking at cross purposes with someone for almost an entire year. What I thought I meant wasn't what he thought I meant. This surely ought to be some kind of record? Hope it doesn't happen in anything important - on my death bed, saying to partner "I never wanted 13 children but I'm glad I had them to make you happy", partner replies "I thought you were the one that wanted 13 children, I would have been happy with a stick insect."...
27 Feb 2007
grumpy old woman alert Current mood: grumpy
Been having a bit of a sense of humour failure lately. More GBH than GSOH. For various reasons this start of an article from the weekend Guardian sums up my mood:
There's an intangible something that radiates from couples still conscious of their coupleness. When it's new enough for each person to be constantly aware of their special, entwined state, yet old enough for them to be entirely comfortable with it, the pair emits a kind of glow that, as I'm sure you know, is really quite tiresome. You sit across the kitchen table, feeling the warmth of them on your face, and think, "One more little arm squeeze or smile at a shared secret, and I'll have to reach over and pour wood varnish into their hair."
But in the morning I'm off to costa del solihull... How do I stand the excitement???
6:47 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
22 Feb 2007
defying gravity Current mood: tired
Someone asked if there's a defying gravity story... Well, it's an obvious choice for me: my hobby is free-running, I do zero gravity research, and I'm a great believer in a secret natural therapy that undoes the effect of gravity on the body.
Truth compels me to add at this point that anyone who knows me would cry with laughter at the thought of me running up walls, my research is on the internet and health, and don't even get me started on alternative medicine. So actually the truth is that I was listening to the song 'defying gravity' when I set up my myspace account. The song's from the musical Wicked, as always the book was better, but the musical is pretty good too.
Defying gravity
Something has changed within me, something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing, too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes: and leap!
It's time to try defying gravity
I think I'll try defying gravity
And you can't pull me down!
I'm through accepting limits 'cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change but till I try, I'll never know!
Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost
Well, if that's love it comes at much too high a cost!
I'd sooner buy defying gravity
Kiss me goodbye I'm defying gravity
And you can't pull me down...
Wednesday, 14 February 2007
14- 20 Feb
19 Feb 2007
The mayor and the skirt
The Skirt made another appearance yesterday. The mayor of our borough came to church, which precipitated the same type of comments as the bishop's visit - i.e. "what are you going to wear?" Not sure if I mentioned this in the post about the bishop's visits, but my role in the church means that when the bishop visits I have to walk in front of him into and out of the church. Even worse, I have to do this carrying a large stick - not only do I feel like a bit of a prat, it's also quite a feat for someone as uncoordinated as I am. I have visions of accidentally tripping over the stick, falling backwards and knocking the bishop unconscious, and then in the kerfuffle standing on the hem of my skirt which would fall down and/or rip from bottom to top - resulting in me standing half naked over an unconscious bishop, in the manner of a dodgy french farce. Unfortunately I have to do the same thing for the mayor, but I'm pleased to say I remained fully clothed and the mayor remained fully conscious (as far as I could tell).
The visit of the mayor reminded me slightly of what I imagine a visit by the Queen might be like. She sails serenely through the event, while everyone else is running around panicking and painting things so she doesn't have to see plebian scuffed paintwork. We didn't quite go as far as re-painting, though I wouldn't really have been surprised if someone had suggested it. We even sang the national anthem, during which I was standing at the front of the church, next to the mayor, with the stick. Being on display at this point created something of a dilemma - I don't normally join in with the national anthem, but stand with my eyes shut, in an attempt to look respectful without actually having to sing the words. Didn't think that would work this time, and since I'd capitulated on the skirt figured I might as well sing along with gusto... Don't think my expression could possibly have been construed as anything other than 'I'll tolerate this but don't expect me to like it", though I was impressed to note the person standing opposite me knew all 3 verses by heart. Not sure I even knew there were 3 verses... although I can still do you a passable rendition of my school song, which we learnt from cards so old they still had god save the king printed on them.
Am not exactly a republican, but my politics started out so left wing they were practically communist, so even now I've mellowed a bit politically, singing the praises of a hereditary aristocrat is never going to be comfortable. The 'eyes respectfully shut' number has been used in various situations incl churches of wildly differing styles when I've been expected to sing along with praises of (amongst others) St Mary and the jesus army.
10:34 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
17 Feb 2007
harley street
Another quasi philosophical thought... (as an aside, my philosophy tutor had the habit of replying to what I thought were interesting and deep thoughts with "yes, that's trivially true". Possibly the same could be said for most of what's written on the internet?)
Abortion rights have been in the papers the last couple of days, because the owners of Harley Street (you can own a street???) are trying to stop what they call 'lifestyle abortions' (compared to 'medical abortions') happening there. I have complicated feelings about abortion, but clearly in this country there is a legal right to abortion. Officially the abortion has to be for 'medical' reasons - usually the mental or physical health of the woman, but also if the baby will be 'seriously' disabled - but as it stands now, in the 1st 3 months of pregnancy it's always more medically risky to carry on with the pregnancy than to have a termination. So any early pregnancy can be terminated on medical grounds. People have been saying there's a right to abortion, and (in a trivial sense?) that's true in this country- there's a legal right. But can there really be a fundamental human right to have an unwanted pregnancy terminated, in the same way that there might be a fundamental human right not to be killed? I can't really see it - the most I could imagine would be a right not to be prevented from obtaining a termination if one was possible. That would amount to the right to do what one liked with one's own body, assuming that the fetus didn't have rights. Surely there can't actually be a (fundamental) right to be supplied with an abortion that would apply in every culture, every human circumstance? What if there was no-one who could do a termination, how would the 'right to abortion' work then? And this is without even starting on the question of whether the fetus should be given rights...
11:25 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
It is not only right...
This comes from a discussion I had with some friends the other night. We were talking about making choices, and got on to whether there's a difference between right/wrong and good/bad. They're often conflated, but are they really just the same thing? If you do something that's 'right' but for the wrong reasons, does that make it the wrong thing to do? Or a less good thing to do? And when people make the 'wrong' choice, could they really (given their background, personality, brain chemistry etc) have made the alternative choice? And if they couldn't, then how could it be the wrong choice? And following on from that, when we say something is right and/or good, what do we mean? How are we defining right and good? Is it good because it's fundamentally good in some way, or because god says/made it good, or because it has good consequences? If we go for 'because god says it is', doesn't that make goodness arbitrary? But if it's not arbitrary and there is some fundamental state of goodness, doesn't that take god a bit out of the equation? All getting a bit too philosophical....
1:57 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
16 Feb 2007
procrastination, that's what you need
The phd process seems to have unleashed my inner procrastinator. Without the restraints of imminent deadlines, immediate colleagues, or any sense of what the heck I'm doing, the inner procrastinator is thriving. Pretty soon she's going to be demanding a name, passport and blog of her own, or at least she would if she wasn't too busy 'checking' on important things. Current preoccupations include email (of course), website updates, the goldfish to check for gill movements (don't want him to die on my shift), my touch typing speed (abysmal but at least I no longer look at the keyboard), and the current favourite, tracking the progress of an e-bay purchase that's being delivered from the States via DHL (news flash- it's now reached the east midlands).
19:40 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
14 Feb 2007
Presentation
The presentation was fine in the end, the audience came to a grand total of 4, which I'm not sure even counts as a presentation. No sobbing in the toilets required. It was, however, without a doubt the most boring presentation I've ever given. The previous holder of that title was my heroic 50 minute attempt on "the mental health impact of the draft wandsworth borough strategy". I was only doing it because my manager didn't want to, and I think the organisers thought we might have some special insider knowledge. In fact I didn't, and my learning point from that presentation was if you don't know what you're talking about, boring the audience to tears with a blow by blow account of a local government strategy is a really good way to ensure you don't get asked to do it again.
I was, however, surprised to be introduced as 'an eminent speaker'. The 3 other audience members just looked blankly at me, I could virtually see them thinking 'but we thought she was just a phd student, maybe she did something interesting before...' Have no idea why he chose that introduction, and this is not false modesty or british self-deprecation. Am genuinely not eminent in any plausible sense of the word - perhaps he meant to say 'emigrant' (am not that either, but it's more likely), or 'ignorant' (closer to the truth, but less likely he would chose that as an introduction)??
13:50 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Postscripts
Couple of postscripts needed on yesterday's posts.
1) The reason the fish is still in the tank is that he's still alive. Seriously worried about my observational skills (animate? inanimate? apparently I can't tell the difference), but at least I haven't been reprising the feeding a dead fish scenario.
2) The presentation is in 20 minutes, I've read it through and then read it through again, and I've checked that the projector works. Now I'm in that 'I've got nothing to do except worry' zone. Reasons to worry are that it's the most boring presentation I've ever given, closely followed by the fact that it's the first one I've done in front of my supervisor. I might post an update later, depends on whether I'm crying in the toilets...
The mayor and the skirt
The Skirt made another appearance yesterday. The mayor of our borough came to church, which precipitated the same type of comments as the bishop's visit - i.e. "what are you going to wear?" Not sure if I mentioned this in the post about the bishop's visits, but my role in the church means that when the bishop visits I have to walk in front of him into and out of the church. Even worse, I have to do this carrying a large stick - not only do I feel like a bit of a prat, it's also quite a feat for someone as uncoordinated as I am. I have visions of accidentally tripping over the stick, falling backwards and knocking the bishop unconscious, and then in the kerfuffle standing on the hem of my skirt which would fall down and/or rip from bottom to top - resulting in me standing half naked over an unconscious bishop, in the manner of a dodgy french farce. Unfortunately I have to do the same thing for the mayor, but I'm pleased to say I remained fully clothed and the mayor remained fully conscious (as far as I could tell).
The visit of the mayor reminded me slightly of what I imagine a visit by the Queen might be like. She sails serenely through the event, while everyone else is running around panicking and painting things so she doesn't have to see plebian scuffed paintwork. We didn't quite go as far as re-painting, though I wouldn't really have been surprised if someone had suggested it. We even sang the national anthem, during which I was standing at the front of the church, next to the mayor, with the stick. Being on display at this point created something of a dilemma - I don't normally join in with the national anthem, but stand with my eyes shut, in an attempt to look respectful without actually having to sing the words. Didn't think that would work this time, and since I'd capitulated on the skirt figured I might as well sing along with gusto... Don't think my expression could possibly have been construed as anything other than 'I'll tolerate this but don't expect me to like it", though I was impressed to note the person standing opposite me knew all 3 verses by heart. Not sure I even knew there were 3 verses... although I can still do you a passable rendition of my school song, which we learnt from cards so old they still had god save the king printed on them.
Am not exactly a republican, but my politics started out so left wing they were practically communist, so even now I've mellowed a bit politically, singing the praises of a hereditary aristocrat is never going to be comfortable. The 'eyes respectfully shut' number has been used in various situations incl churches of wildly differing styles when I've been expected to sing along with praises of (amongst others) St Mary and the jesus army.
10:34 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
17 Feb 2007
harley street
Another quasi philosophical thought... (as an aside, my philosophy tutor had the habit of replying to what I thought were interesting and deep thoughts with "yes, that's trivially true". Possibly the same could be said for most of what's written on the internet?)
Abortion rights have been in the papers the last couple of days, because the owners of Harley Street (you can own a street???) are trying to stop what they call 'lifestyle abortions' (compared to 'medical abortions') happening there. I have complicated feelings about abortion, but clearly in this country there is a legal right to abortion. Officially the abortion has to be for 'medical' reasons - usually the mental or physical health of the woman, but also if the baby will be 'seriously' disabled - but as it stands now, in the 1st 3 months of pregnancy it's always more medically risky to carry on with the pregnancy than to have a termination. So any early pregnancy can be terminated on medical grounds. People have been saying there's a right to abortion, and (in a trivial sense?) that's true in this country- there's a legal right. But can there really be a fundamental human right to have an unwanted pregnancy terminated, in the same way that there might be a fundamental human right not to be killed? I can't really see it - the most I could imagine would be a right not to be prevented from obtaining a termination if one was possible. That would amount to the right to do what one liked with one's own body, assuming that the fetus didn't have rights. Surely there can't actually be a (fundamental) right to be supplied with an abortion that would apply in every culture, every human circumstance? What if there was no-one who could do a termination, how would the 'right to abortion' work then? And this is without even starting on the question of whether the fetus should be given rights...
11:25 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
It is not only right...
This comes from a discussion I had with some friends the other night. We were talking about making choices, and got on to whether there's a difference between right/wrong and good/bad. They're often conflated, but are they really just the same thing? If you do something that's 'right' but for the wrong reasons, does that make it the wrong thing to do? Or a less good thing to do? And when people make the 'wrong' choice, could they really (given their background, personality, brain chemistry etc) have made the alternative choice? And if they couldn't, then how could it be the wrong choice? And following on from that, when we say something is right and/or good, what do we mean? How are we defining right and good? Is it good because it's fundamentally good in some way, or because god says/made it good, or because it has good consequences? If we go for 'because god says it is', doesn't that make goodness arbitrary? But if it's not arbitrary and there is some fundamental state of goodness, doesn't that take god a bit out of the equation? All getting a bit too philosophical....
1:57 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
16 Feb 2007
procrastination, that's what you need
The phd process seems to have unleashed my inner procrastinator. Without the restraints of imminent deadlines, immediate colleagues, or any sense of what the heck I'm doing, the inner procrastinator is thriving. Pretty soon she's going to be demanding a name, passport and blog of her own, or at least she would if she wasn't too busy 'checking' on important things. Current preoccupations include email (of course), website updates, the goldfish to check for gill movements (don't want him to die on my shift), my touch typing speed (abysmal but at least I no longer look at the keyboard), and the current favourite, tracking the progress of an e-bay purchase that's being delivered from the States via DHL (news flash- it's now reached the east midlands).
19:40 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
14 Feb 2007
Presentation
The presentation was fine in the end, the audience came to a grand total of 4, which I'm not sure even counts as a presentation. No sobbing in the toilets required. It was, however, without a doubt the most boring presentation I've ever given. The previous holder of that title was my heroic 50 minute attempt on "the mental health impact of the draft wandsworth borough strategy". I was only doing it because my manager didn't want to, and I think the organisers thought we might have some special insider knowledge. In fact I didn't, and my learning point from that presentation was if you don't know what you're talking about, boring the audience to tears with a blow by blow account of a local government strategy is a really good way to ensure you don't get asked to do it again.
I was, however, surprised to be introduced as 'an eminent speaker'. The 3 other audience members just looked blankly at me, I could virtually see them thinking 'but we thought she was just a phd student, maybe she did something interesting before...' Have no idea why he chose that introduction, and this is not false modesty or british self-deprecation. Am genuinely not eminent in any plausible sense of the word - perhaps he meant to say 'emigrant' (am not that either, but it's more likely), or 'ignorant' (closer to the truth, but less likely he would chose that as an introduction)??
13:50 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Postscripts
Couple of postscripts needed on yesterday's posts.
1) The reason the fish is still in the tank is that he's still alive. Seriously worried about my observational skills (animate? inanimate? apparently I can't tell the difference), but at least I haven't been reprising the feeding a dead fish scenario.
2) The presentation is in 20 minutes, I've read it through and then read it through again, and I've checked that the projector works. Now I'm in that 'I've got nothing to do except worry' zone. Reasons to worry are that it's the most boring presentation I've ever given, closely followed by the fact that it's the first one I've done in front of my supervisor. I might post an update later, depends on whether I'm crying in the toilets...
Friday, 2 February 2007
02 - 13 Feb
13 Feb 2007
evidence
2 posts in one day, this has to be some kind of record. This is a brief thought. I'm currently doing one of my less favourite tasks, preparing to give a presentation. I'm presenting at an evidence based journal club, on the topic 'what is an evidence based journal club?' Unfortunately, using my skills in evidence based healthcare, I've discovered that there's almost no evidence that journal clubs work. So, I'm presenting at an evidence based journal club about the evidence base for evidence based journal clubs when there is no evidence that evidence based journal clubs are effective. Nicely ironic I think... and I've just discovered that evidence is one of those words that starts to look funny if you write it too much.
11:11 - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Fish
Got home yesterday and noticed 2 things. Firstly my flatmate is stilll alive, despite the fact that I haven't actually seen her since last Thursday. Things in the flat had been moved, so I can be fairly confident that she hasn't died/been abducted by aliens, unless we have a very selective poltergeist. The second thing I noticed was that our house-goldfish was not still alive. This has been coming for quite some time. First he swam on his side for a while, and just when we'd given up hope he recovered enough to spend most of his time sitting on the bottom of the tank looking resentfully at us. (Or he may have been looking resentfully at the bright pink gravel he was sitting on, a kind present from a former housemate.) Recently he's been alternating periods of sitting on the bottom with swimming manically round the tank - do goldfish get dementia?
The fact that the goldfish was no more was brought to my attention by the fact that the pump and his plants had been removed from the tank. It took me longer to notice (ok, til this morning) that the fish himself hadn't been removed from the tank and was in fact still sitting on the bottom looking out resentfully. This made me wonder if I spent the weekend feeding a dead fish, not the first time that this has happened. I once spent a week cycling over to feed my sister's guinea pig and fish while she and my parents were on holiday. The guinea pig was fine (the neighbours got used to hearing me in the garden saying entreatingly 'come on piggy-wiggy, you know you want to come here now, come on guinea-winny, don't make me come in and get you' as the guinea pig cowered in the far end of her run). The fish were less fine, and at some point in the week I must have made the transition from feeding live fish to throwing food in on top of dead fish. Unfortunately I didn't notice...
08 Feb 2007
Teeth
Have been back again to my dentist to have a temporary filling put back in to a wisdom tooth. By now it would have been easier and cheaper just to put in a normal filling, not to mention the fact that v soon I'm going to be noticeably lopsided due to only using the muscles on one side of my jaw. I'm waiting to have the whole tooth taken out, but as my dentist indignantly said this morning "the hospitals give priority to life saving surgery". Couldn't work out whether she was joking, or was genuinely annoyed that troublesome wisdom teeth aren't up there with coronary by-passes.
Clearly I couldn't possibly stagger in to the office through the snow with a dodgy wisdom tooth, so am working at home today. This is proving to be a mistake - having thought 'ah, I can work til 7pm and still get to my evening meeting on time', have so far failed to make much of an impact on my to-do list. Back to it....
21:29 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
05 Feb 2007
Neighbours Current mood: sleepy
I am engaged in a long-term war of attrition with our neighbours over whether the windows in the communal staircase should be open or closed. Every time I come in or go out I close the windows and within approximately 30 seconds a person or persons unknown opens them. I thought I was the only one petty enough to be bothered, but I recently discovered my flatmate (R) does exactly the same thing.
Personally I think my reasons for closing the windows are entirely reasonable: it's winter, when the stairway is cold all your heating escapes every time you open the flat door, and when it rains the carpet gets wet. Also we live on a main road and everything gets covered in a layer of black dust when the windows are open. Other neighbour disputes in this block have resulted in hand-written notices being blu-tacked to the suspects' front doors, and then to the main door when the culprits denied all knowledge. I've always considered those kind of notices to be the last resort of the desperate, but I'm seriously considering sticking one on the windows. The fact that we only rent the flat is irrelevant, and my motivation for wanting them closed is nothing to do with pettily wanting to win an argument, no, definitely not. Ahem...
This isn't the first time we've had neighbour issues. Our last (ground floor) flat was damp, oddly decorated, and required extensive net curtains because someone parking their car and walking to the front door had a perfect view into every room in the flat. These things we could cope with. Our neighbours in that block were helpful, chatty and cared about the flats - this we could not cope with. I eventually demanded we move after Neighbour A informed me that the piece of hardboard which had mysteriously appeared next to my scooter had been left there by Neighbour B who had been inspecting the tarmac and noticed that the stand of my bike was leaving dents. I was apparently supposed to have understood the need for the hardboard by some process of mind-reading/extra sensory perception, though if he'd just asked me to do it I wouldn't have minded... much...
02 Feb 2007
Distractions Current mood: blah
I have that Friday feeling... one of those days where I find myself fitting work in between checking emails, doing internet searches and reading the BBC news instead of the other way round. It's not as though I don't have anything to do, it's just that I don't have any imminent deadlines. I finally managed to submit a project proposal yesterday - only a month late, oops - and it feels as though by rights I should be celebrating, not starting work on an update that's needed because the proposal was out of date before it was even submitted. Groan....
I can report that the major crisis of this week had nothing to do with my phd or personal life, or in fact anything very important. Unintentionally this week I've had 2 separate meetings with 2 separate bishops - one during a church service and one at dinner before a meeting. Other people worried about what to call them (Your Grace? Your most importantness?) or what the bishop might think about the service or church. My concerns were less spiritual... WHAT do you wear to meet a bishop? This was made worse by the fact that I'm known (and occasionally disapproved of) for wearing jeans to church...
Briefly considered and rejected the possibility of wearing a big wedding hat (haven't got one), a bishop fancy dress costume (to make them feel at home and make a political protest), or my 'winter' interview suit. Finally decided on my latest wedding skirt for the service and normal work clothes for the dinner. The dinner was ok, but the skirt attracted approximately 746 comments, ranging from the friendly commiseration to the 'oh you look lovely in a skirt, you should wear one more often' (subtext: you look really manky usually).
8:09 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
evidence
2 posts in one day, this has to be some kind of record. This is a brief thought. I'm currently doing one of my less favourite tasks, preparing to give a presentation. I'm presenting at an evidence based journal club, on the topic 'what is an evidence based journal club?' Unfortunately, using my skills in evidence based healthcare, I've discovered that there's almost no evidence that journal clubs work. So, I'm presenting at an evidence based journal club about the evidence base for evidence based journal clubs when there is no evidence that evidence based journal clubs are effective. Nicely ironic I think... and I've just discovered that evidence is one of those words that starts to look funny if you write it too much.
11:11 - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
Fish
Got home yesterday and noticed 2 things. Firstly my flatmate is stilll alive, despite the fact that I haven't actually seen her since last Thursday. Things in the flat had been moved, so I can be fairly confident that she hasn't died/been abducted by aliens, unless we have a very selective poltergeist. The second thing I noticed was that our house-goldfish was not still alive. This has been coming for quite some time. First he swam on his side for a while, and just when we'd given up hope he recovered enough to spend most of his time sitting on the bottom of the tank looking resentfully at us. (Or he may have been looking resentfully at the bright pink gravel he was sitting on, a kind present from a former housemate.) Recently he's been alternating periods of sitting on the bottom with swimming manically round the tank - do goldfish get dementia?
The fact that the goldfish was no more was brought to my attention by the fact that the pump and his plants had been removed from the tank. It took me longer to notice (ok, til this morning) that the fish himself hadn't been removed from the tank and was in fact still sitting on the bottom looking out resentfully. This made me wonder if I spent the weekend feeding a dead fish, not the first time that this has happened. I once spent a week cycling over to feed my sister's guinea pig and fish while she and my parents were on holiday. The guinea pig was fine (the neighbours got used to hearing me in the garden saying entreatingly 'come on piggy-wiggy, you know you want to come here now, come on guinea-winny, don't make me come in and get you' as the guinea pig cowered in the far end of her run). The fish were less fine, and at some point in the week I must have made the transition from feeding live fish to throwing food in on top of dead fish. Unfortunately I didn't notice...
08 Feb 2007
Teeth
Have been back again to my dentist to have a temporary filling put back in to a wisdom tooth. By now it would have been easier and cheaper just to put in a normal filling, not to mention the fact that v soon I'm going to be noticeably lopsided due to only using the muscles on one side of my jaw. I'm waiting to have the whole tooth taken out, but as my dentist indignantly said this morning "the hospitals give priority to life saving surgery". Couldn't work out whether she was joking, or was genuinely annoyed that troublesome wisdom teeth aren't up there with coronary by-passes.
Clearly I couldn't possibly stagger in to the office through the snow with a dodgy wisdom tooth, so am working at home today. This is proving to be a mistake - having thought 'ah, I can work til 7pm and still get to my evening meeting on time', have so far failed to make much of an impact on my to-do list. Back to it....
21:29 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
05 Feb 2007
Neighbours Current mood: sleepy
I am engaged in a long-term war of attrition with our neighbours over whether the windows in the communal staircase should be open or closed. Every time I come in or go out I close the windows and within approximately 30 seconds a person or persons unknown opens them. I thought I was the only one petty enough to be bothered, but I recently discovered my flatmate (R) does exactly the same thing.
Personally I think my reasons for closing the windows are entirely reasonable: it's winter, when the stairway is cold all your heating escapes every time you open the flat door, and when it rains the carpet gets wet. Also we live on a main road and everything gets covered in a layer of black dust when the windows are open. Other neighbour disputes in this block have resulted in hand-written notices being blu-tacked to the suspects' front doors, and then to the main door when the culprits denied all knowledge. I've always considered those kind of notices to be the last resort of the desperate, but I'm seriously considering sticking one on the windows. The fact that we only rent the flat is irrelevant, and my motivation for wanting them closed is nothing to do with pettily wanting to win an argument, no, definitely not. Ahem...
This isn't the first time we've had neighbour issues. Our last (ground floor) flat was damp, oddly decorated, and required extensive net curtains because someone parking their car and walking to the front door had a perfect view into every room in the flat. These things we could cope with. Our neighbours in that block were helpful, chatty and cared about the flats - this we could not cope with. I eventually demanded we move after Neighbour A informed me that the piece of hardboard which had mysteriously appeared next to my scooter had been left there by Neighbour B who had been inspecting the tarmac and noticed that the stand of my bike was leaving dents. I was apparently supposed to have understood the need for the hardboard by some process of mind-reading/extra sensory perception, though if he'd just asked me to do it I wouldn't have minded... much...
02 Feb 2007
Distractions Current mood: blah
I have that Friday feeling... one of those days where I find myself fitting work in between checking emails, doing internet searches and reading the BBC news instead of the other way round. It's not as though I don't have anything to do, it's just that I don't have any imminent deadlines. I finally managed to submit a project proposal yesterday - only a month late, oops - and it feels as though by rights I should be celebrating, not starting work on an update that's needed because the proposal was out of date before it was even submitted. Groan....
I can report that the major crisis of this week had nothing to do with my phd or personal life, or in fact anything very important. Unintentionally this week I've had 2 separate meetings with 2 separate bishops - one during a church service and one at dinner before a meeting. Other people worried about what to call them (Your Grace? Your most importantness?) or what the bishop might think about the service or church. My concerns were less spiritual... WHAT do you wear to meet a bishop? This was made worse by the fact that I'm known (and occasionally disapproved of) for wearing jeans to church...
Briefly considered and rejected the possibility of wearing a big wedding hat (haven't got one), a bishop fancy dress costume (to make them feel at home and make a political protest), or my 'winter' interview suit. Finally decided on my latest wedding skirt for the service and normal work clothes for the dinner. The dinner was ok, but the skirt attracted approximately 746 comments, ranging from the friendly commiseration to the 'oh you look lovely in a skirt, you should wear one more often' (subtext: you look really manky usually).
8:09 - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove
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