We're off to see the Wizard!

Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas

2004-12-15T20:39:00.000-08:00

Happy is he who understands the causes of things. At least according to Vergil. And the London School of Economics.

I graduated today, officially becoming a Master of Science. I feel a little unfulfilled, since I wasn't able to participate in the actual ceremony, and stupid Oz forgot that he needed the international access code and the country code in the number to send text messages to his people in London, so sadly we do not yet know if Sir Howard did the hand-shaking and if Carlatio was there to see his little birds take flight.

And apparently I also missed a killer pair of spike heels, worn by the G-Lo. One hopes there are pictures. But the Moms made some steaks and some yorkies to celebrate, and that was good enough for me. I had to save the glass of champers for a little while, since I didn't want to go to rehearsal drunk.

Congratulations to Dirrty, G-Lo, P-Diddy, Quentin and the whole gang. We'll have to do that again sometime.

Apologies for the oversight

2004-12-14T15:07:00.001-08:00

Apparently when I updated my bloggage I lost the links, which made Dirrty sad sad sad. And this was not the intention, so I ask all to forgive the oversight. I have properly disciplined my staff.

In other news, I have discovered the joys of the wireless network extend into the bathroom. Now I have blogged from bed and blogged from the bathroom. I would like to stay I had blogged while in the bath, but that poses some safety hazards that I haven't quite figured out how to overcome. Instead, I leave the location of this blogging to your fertile imaginations....

Apologies for the oversight

2004-12-14T15:07:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday Pops

2004-12-08T16:25:00.000-08:00

Please wish the Good Doctor a happy birthday today. We won't mention how old he is, except that its the start of a new decade. He is, of course, on the hospital service so we haven't seen or heard from him yet tonight. Which is causing unreasonable delays in the availability of the steak. And since I haven't had the steak for, oh, ages I'm starting to get restless. There are also chocolate eclairs in the fridge from Gram (the Dad's Moms), and those can't be eaten until after the steak, so you can see what kind of problem is about to be caused.

Oh, the garage door. My salvation! Off to sign his card, and then, the steak!

Hello World!

2004-12-06T18:30:00.000-08:00

Hello dear friends. I have returned. Its only been, what, two months? I think I'm going to try a new look and everything - a sort-of resurrection of the bloggage. Ah, the excitement. I can feel it.

The quick and dirty, in bullet points for easy reading:

• I'm back home.
• I work days, the go to the gym, eat some dinner, watch some tv, and go to bed. Sometimes I play my cello.
• Shampoo, rinse, repeat.

I regret that there are no good stories lately. I would like to have reported on the co-ed wrestling at Clifton's birthday party, but I wasn't there so it would be hearsay and that's not admissible in court. I've noticed a relationship between living with the folks and a lack of drunken foolishness, which is too bad, because I can be a fun drunken fool.

That is all, since I need to go watch some Monday Night Football and see if there is any chance I can squeak out a win in my fantasy league. Its not looking good for Oz's All-Munchkin All-Stars this week...

Blogging from bed

2004-09-12T21:21:00.000-07:00

Right now I'm coming to you live from the mothership. From my bed, actually, which is awesome. Hooray for wireless technology. I apologize for the unscheduled hiatus. There was this dissertation, and there was stress, and I figured nobody really cared much for my whinging about it all. But now its over (hooray!) and I'm just having bad dreams about having ditched an exam or two, forgotten to turn in a major assignment, or turning in my diss missing a chapter. Horrible, horrible stuff. I thought it would be all cake and roses afterwards, but this stuff just doesn't stop haunting you.

So let's see, since last time I

1) finished my masters
2) packed my room
3) flew home
4) unpacked
5) cleaned my closet (mostly)
6) got a wallet
7) got a couple suits for the office, since I'm going to have to dress nice. No more shorts and slides for me. Bummer.
8) watched exceptional amounts of football.

The kitty and I have been getting reacquainted, and I'm going to need to find his brush, I think, since he's having some weird shedding issues, which is making it hard for me to keep clothes clean. But he leads a rough life. Sleep all day, talk during dinner, sleep on my lap during telly-time, then sleep under his favorite tablecloth blanket all night. I could get used to that.

The only other big news is that my boogers aren't black anymore, since I'm back in the country where the air is clean. And filled with pollen, but that hasn't caused me too much trouble (yet, touch wood). The fat man has stepped off my chest, as an added bonus.

The job starts a week from tomorrow, so I have a good seven days left to bask in sweet, sweet freedom. I'll keep you posted.

The Amazing Flying Russians

2004-08-24T14:21:00.000-07:00

A big night in the stadium tonight - a great mens 1500, a great decathlon, and an incredible womens pole vault. The TV crews are feeling artistic this Games. In between jumps they would cut to these sort of dreamy, half-focussed shots of the torch, until a pair of shoes, followed by a spandex-clad woman, come floating over the bar in slo-mo. It was the same with the high jump (minus the torch), some slo-mo action from a few crazy angles. I'm a fan.

Today's dissertation update: progress. G-Lo and I bickered a while about how to construct out models, about how to structure our objectives, but remain friends and in good spirits at the end of the day. Hooray! Tomorrow, some more writing, throwing together our presentation, and dinner and a drink with the Stokes. The Last Supper, if you will.

Progress

2004-08-23T14:50:00.000-07:00

Today some writing actually took place. And some database-building. Hooray! I am starting to get nauseated when I think about the deadline, so I've been trying to spend most of my time in my happy place. Its going to be one of those deals where you think that if you ignore it it doesn't really exist. Except that it does. And our LSE supervisors have come through in typical form - my tutor is on holiday (ON HOLIDAY!!) in Rome and wasn't going to bother to check his emails while he was away. Which sucks for me since G-Lo and I emailed both our supervisors to see how they wanted us to split up the paper when we submit to the school next week. So now, finally, almost two weeks later, we get an email that says "gee, we don't know, why don't you look at this other paper submitted a few years ago." This after my supervisor assured me, repeatedly, that I shouldn't worry too much about it because they "have experience with this sort of scenario." My ass. So G-Lo and I are just going to make it up, and if they screw us we're going straight to the Exam Board. I'll have none of this half-assed amateur nonsense.

In other news, drama at the gymnastics tonight. No apparatus kissing, sadly, this Olympiad, but there was a dance-atop-the-apparatus, which came close, and I have high hopes for Beijing. An exciting evening at the track, as well. At least as far as Team GB was concerned, when we could break away from Paula angst. Not that I don't feel for her. Over the weekend, though, the British rowers did their Maj proud. Lots of crying on the medals podium, which, for me, is a sign of a good competition. The reactions on the face of the bird that won the 800 tonight were priceless. Props tonight, as well, to the US Softball and Women's Soccer teams for games well played. Maybe we'll get to see Brandi pull of her shirt again. And, women's saber gold medalist? Domer. Looks like the Irish are going to be unstoppable on the fencing mat for a few more years. The Dome has a fair contingent in Athens this year, including two swimmers, which is pretty cool.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned, but I will be back in the US of A on 5 Sept. And if anybody has any extra tickets to any football this season, I'd be happy to take them off your hands. Particularly for Michigan, but I'm not picky.

Sod all, squared

2004-08-19T15:59:00.000-07:00

Dissertation Update #3

Progress made = sod all, squared. G-Lo and I did have a breakthrough on our model this afternoon, after some hang-wringing and a few sadistic visits by out supervisor, who floats in and cackles with glee about how many days we (don't) have left. But she keeps talking about having champers when we're finished, so we can't hold it against her. Starting to get a wee bit freaked out, but so far unable to convert it into motivation.

A late addition to the Lollipop League All-Munchkin All Star Team: Stefani "Fifi" Bismpikou (4'8", 5 stone 7).

Not quite as exciting at the pool today, aside from the DQ, er, wait, not really. But I did miss the 50 free semis. And the Russian bird taking the silver (Queen Khorkina) needs to super-size next time she hits the Arches, but still, a class act.

Tomorrow: Gail Devers!

Representing the Lollipop League

2004-08-17T13:52:00.000-07:00

Not a lot of excitement today, outside of Athens. Did some work, had some lunch, played some Minesweeper, went to the BLPES. Yes, yes, thrilling stuff.

Dissertation Update #2: Three paragraphs written. Quality = pants.

For those of you on the other continent, items to look for in your primetime coverage this evening...

Best Deck Dance = Great Britain's own Steven Parry. Well done, Steve-o. And wicked smooth moves, my friend.

Best Relay Photo Finish = Keller vs Thorpe. It was a nailbiter, as you can see from the look on "Boss" Phelps face.

And finally, the Lollipop League All-Munchkin All Star Team = Laura Campos (ESP, 4'8"), Oana Ban (ROM, 4'7") and Fan Ye (CHN, 4'3"). Remember, the beam is 4.1 feet tall. We're talking serious munchkin action.

In other news, props to Pranav for hooking a brother up with a jar of real, honest-to-goodness Skippy. Now all we have to do is actually follow through on plans to meet so I can get it before its time to head back to the States.

Dissertation Update #1

2004-08-16T15:22:00.000-07:00

Houston, we have an outline. So far the feedback from out advisors: "um, okay, I guess. I'm not sure there is a precedent" and "Larry is out of the country and may not be checking his email."

Well, gee, fellas. I would think that somebody who is now on the faculty (1) would be able to make some informed decisions, and the senior member of the program with a half-dozen dissertations to supervise (2) would CHECK HIS EMAIL no matter where on God's green earth he happens to be. Why he would leave the country with TWO WEEKS TO GO boggles the mind, but I'm not feeling philosophical today.

Today's Olympic Excitement:

Apparatus Kissing = none (although Blaine did stay on all the apparati tonight. With no concussions!)

Self Hugs = none

Crazy Greeks In and Around the Diving Well = Opa! [pictures to follow]

My new girlfriend

2004-08-15T13:50:00.000-07:00

Inge

Its not just the Greek summer that's hotting things up on the pool deck, now is it? Marry me.

Live, from Butler's Wharf

2004-08-14T15:21:00.000-07:00

Its Saturday night!

I'm on a roll this week. I'm on fire!

Nothing exciting today except a full day of Olympics coverage on the Beeb, which I enjoying while doing my lit search (which I didn't enjoy, but it happens). It was very exciting, what with the Phelps doing his thing. That Australian dude, though, looks like this punk Belgian in my program that I cannot stand and so therefore I cannot root for the Thorpedo this time. And did you see the Turkish weightlifter woman? Holy crap. She could break me in half. With one hand. I was disappointed, however, by the lack of apparatus-kissing in the men's gymnastics. It was just a qualifier, I guess, but still. One must show the apparatus the proper respect.

A shout today to Tyrone, who survived the hurricane. That's my boy.

Tomorrow, more of the same, but with rain. Woot!

Friday the 13th

2004-08-13T14:22:00.000-07:00

First, we mourn the dear departed Julia Child. She was not just a great chef, people, she was a spy. And that makes her even cooler than she would have been if she had just been a chef. She will be missed. Enjoy that Big Kitchen in the Sky, cherie.

And now, the good news:

G-Lo got a job today. Hooray! After 24 hours of assuming that she didn't the Home Office called before lunch with the offer. (Friday 13, baby). So starting in September she'll be working for the Maj doing stuff at the HO, like throwing out asylum seekers and hunting down terrorists. Go get em, tiger. We celebrated with a pub lunch, and despite the fact that the Pimm's didn't come with a strawberry or cucumber slice we still had a good time.

To all of you back in the States, make sure that you are in front of the TV when the NBC coverage of the Opening Ceremony starts. It was spectacular. The bit with Björk was a little weird ("your tears are salty...") and the march of the champions was a tad long, but the rest of it was out of this world. These Greeks, they know how to party. There is nothing I love more than the Olympics. My dissertation is just going to have to wait until they're over, because any minute I can be in front of the Beeb I will be. Excitement. The big screen on Trafalgar Square is going to be my new home.

Hopefully Tyrone and Finn haven't washed away with Charlie. Donate to the Red Cross. Together, we can save a life.

Fuller's London Pride

2004-08-12T15:46:00.000-07:00

A shout out to Diane, who correctly answered the Olympics quiz (and the bonus question, and then gave even more information). That is how you play the game, people. She wins the prize.

Today, some sun, some rain, and then Mother Nature decided to rinse and repeat. Weird going into the tube when its sunny, walking out into a torrential downpour. This is what I love about this city.

Tonight was the "leaving do" for Superblewitt, who is one of the most remarkable people I've had the pleasure of meeting. Married to a Rwandan refugee, who now runs her own charity to support other victims of the genocide there, he is moving from head of strategy for the BritCross to an even more thankless position in Geneva with the Federation. I wish him well, but if there ever was an exercise in cat-herding this would be it. Even so, I admire his passion and his tenacity. And one day I would like to think that I have been as successful and as respected by my colleagues as it is obvious that he is. Thankfully he saved his party from devolving into a sappy love-fest by a well-timed and Axe Murderer-esque "let's get pissed," which everyone then happily did. Tonight, thankfully, I did not get groped by my officemate. She started in that direction, and I was rescued by an overfull bladder. Yes, yes - TMI.

I will note for the record (Tyrone) that today's post is comfortably within the time limit. Now I think its time to find something to eat. Like toast, maybe. Except without the baked beans on top.

Its really Wednesday

2004-08-11T16:21:00.000-07:00

And I'm four for four! (heh) I refuse to let my streak end on a technicality, so while it actually is 22 minutes into Thursday morning, I'm going to say this is Wednesday's post and you're all going to be happy. Right?

Today G-Lo and I had a meeting in York, which turned out to be a bigger deal that we were thinking and went far better than I had hoped for. Go us. So as we enter the homestretch, the score is G-Lo & Ozzie-Wan 1, Disseration 0. Woo-hoo!

In other news, I am now addicted to minesweeper. I tasted the sweet nectar of victory at the Expert level yesterday, and I haven't been able to quit. A note to the playa-hatahs out there who scoff - I've been a Mac user all my life, and minesweeper only comes with Windoze. My development as a minesweeper is a bit retarded as a result.

Tomorrow = productivity! And then Superblewitt's "leaving do" which is already gearing up to be fertile ground for office scandal. Excitement.

Since nobody has attempted the Olympics trivia from yesterday, the contest is still running. Only 32 hours, 16 minutes, and 25 seconds to go...

I'm on a roll, now

2004-08-10T13:19:00.000-07:00

Wow, three days, three posts. How exciting.

Nothing much new today. It rained. Its now cooler. Hooray! Going to York at the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow, so I'll leave you with a few tidbits and then I'm going to put my bad self to bed.

•Picture of the Day:

Cojones. Thank you, Condi, for that wonderful visual.

More Unintentionally Hilarious Photos of the Moment can be found here. My favorites:

Volume 19. This is the man in charge of the world economy, ladies and gentlemen.

Volume 12. Uncle Dick making bedroom eyes. Rowr.

•Word of the Day (and Puerile Bathroom Humor of the Day):

pum·per·nick·el n. - a dark, sourish bread made from whole, coarsely ground rye

Perhaps more interesting is the etymology:

German, probably from dialectal, term of abuse : obsolete Pumper, breaking wind (from dialectal pumpern, to break wind, from Middle High German, to knock, frequentative of pumpen, of imitative origin) + German Nickel, goblin, devil.

Pumpernickel, therefore, is the "devil's fart." Also worth noting, "pumpern" is an example of onomatopoeia. Or at least the Germans thought so.

Finally, your Olympics trivia for the day. Put your answers in the comments. First one with the right answer wins a prize. Of some sort.

Who won the first women's marathon? (Bonus: Where and when?) (Double bonus: What was her time?)

Urban Assault Vehicles

2004-08-09T10:36:00.000-07:00

Amen to this. Hooray for the Civic.

Its getting hot in here...

2004-08-08T15:27:00.000-07:00

So I've taken off all my clothes, and am sitting with the fan on high, pointed directly at me, and have been spending as much time as possible in the basement in the air conditioned comfort of the tv lounge. Where I have been watching Bollywood movies, because the place was commandeered by a group of Indian chicks for Shahrukh Khan Weekend on Channel 4. We watched Devdas, which was hilarious (and the birds are stunning). And folks, if you haven't seen some Bollywood go out and rent out. Devdas is a good start. The story is crap, but it will be worth it just for the elaborate production numbers. Which happen every 15 minutes or so. Awesome.

Or, if you like something a little more trippy rent Koyaanisqatsi, which is the art flick I saw last night. I went because it has a Philip Glass soundtrack, but it was very cool. I'm not going to try to explain it, but it involves a lot of time-lapse footage of nature and people and machines and explosions. Its supposed to make a point, but I'm not quite sure what. I'd definitely watch it again, though.

Its been a while since I've updated. My how time flies when you're having fun. I can recap:

1. Dissertation
2. Food
3. Dissertation
4. Food
5. Sleep

Shampoo, rinse, repeat. Yes, that exciting.

And its hot. It has been for weeks. And its not the hot, its the humid that's killer. Its supposedly going to rain and shake the heavens with thunder, but I'll believe it when I see it. Oh, for it to be below 20 at night. What would I give...

KIRSTEN DUMPST

2004-07-23T14:52:00.000-07:00

From The Defamer:

"In any case, there are now multiple reports that Kirsten Dunst plucked out Jake Gyllenhaal's dreamy eyes two weeks ago and gently rolled them curb-ward, where they can now be picked up by any starlet so inclined. The Sun UK had our favorite headline, which we wished we'd thought up two days ago: KIRSTEN DUMPST.

Oh, those Brits and their incredible mastery of the language! Such an evocative two words, bringing to mind both the dissolution of a romance and suggesting a new name for an arcane sexual practice."

Which made me laugh out loud, both because I think Dumpst is a tart (ever since the unnecessary wet-t-shirt-bust-out-shoulders-back squidgy kiss in the first Spiderman, which, in my opinion, came close to ruining an otherwise entertaining flick) (I could go on, listing the trashy roles she's had since, but I'll refrain) (Oh, but I will. Hello Eternal Sunshine. And this new one about the tennis? The Wimber? Trash.) and because of the bit about the Brits and their incredible mastery of the language. British newspaper headlines, especially in the tabs, are small works of poetry. Genius. And who brought us "pants" and "minger"? The Brits. (But who brought us "fergus"? Yours truly). So I suppose I should refer to the Dumpst as a strumpet, in honor of those Brits.

In other news, tonight Victor got evicted from the Big Bruv house, which leaves only 5 housies to battle it out for the last two weeks. My money is on Nadia, the Brasilian transsexual, because she's the only one that seems not to care. And Michelle and Stu need to stop with, well, they just need to stop. Because, ew. [Note: The Sun not always work-safe].

Tomorrow: Borough Market.

The earth is...

2004-07-21T12:25:00.000-07:00

Dirrty chided me today for not being up on my posting. And for that, gentle reader, I apologize. Let me recap:

1. Worked on dissertation.
2. Worried about work.
3. Got hammered.
4. Hooray!

"The sea is" Dirrty also made some comment about being "distanked." She refers to our provisional remarks. I prefer not to speculate on what may or may not be the end result of this crazy little adventure, but I will say that I have never been as happy to get as many "D"s as I may or may not have got today. Tomorrow, apparently, we can find out what the Rosie may or may not have given.

See, they do this thing here where your prof marks your stuff, then they give it to a mysterious "external marker" and he (or she) marks it again. And I'm not sure how the reconcile the marks, or if the external marker is just like "hey, looks reasonable" and we get on with it. So this is why I am not going to speculate. But you could maybe go ahead and but the champers in the fridge, just in case. Maybe.

Thank you to all who suffered through the insane ravings. We'll be able to do it all again about a year from now. Excitement! I will be returning to the Great State to suckle at the breast of Mother Mayo and find my way to the District. So I can take over the world! Mu-ah-ha-ha!

Tomorrow, Pizza Hut boo-fay. Hoo-ray!

Has the waif returned home?

2004-07-13T15:08:00.000-07:00

Tonight Quentin had the brilliant idea to check out the Royal Opera's production of Tosca, which they were showing live on screens in the piazza outside the opera house. To add that extra bit of class, we picked up a 4-pack of Stella and a bag of Doritos during the first halftime. Was good, except I thought the Leap of Death in the English National Opera production was better. If you weren't watching for it you could have missed the little jump tonight.

For those of you that like to mix your sublime with your ridiculous (like your beer and your opera, your salty and your sweet, your cheese and your peanut butter) I suggest looking up a recording by Apocalyptica - 4 Finnish dudes playing heavy metal on their cellos. It rocks. If that's not enough, then you need to listen to the Concerto Suite for Electric Guitar and Orchestra in e-flat minor, by Yngwie Malmsteen.

I received this email today:

From: Concepcion Ponce
Subject: betelguese ambassador

minivan admonish from lunatic.When you see crank case over tape recorder, it means that waif from support group returns home.lunatics remain snooty.Ray, although somewhat soothed by chess board defined by and near prime minister.
pug incite dobbin faro magenta

These spammers. What will they come up with next? Oh, right, "get ready for some livestock-lovin..."

Hey look, its Enrico Pallazzo!

2004-07-10T16:07:00.000-07:00

Tonight on the Beeb: The Naked Gun. I caught the tail end, after the last half (or so) of Dead Poets Socierty on Four. Hooray for the telly. I don't know how I've managed this long without it.

Doughnuts

2004-07-07T14:51:00.000-07:00

Dear friends, as you know I have mentioned several times that it is always smarter to walk, whilst in central London, than use public transport. I must amend that rule, after my "walk" home yesterday.

A bit of geography: I live in the East End, near Tower Bridge (which most tourons mistake for London Bridge. This is the reason why an ugly concrete bridge is now in Arizona [or Texas]). I work west of the West End, sort of kitty corner from the palace (excitement). So my usual commute is a bus to London Bridge station, then two tubes, walkies past the Lanesborough (where I saw a new model Rolls Corniche today, while it almost ran me over), and then to the office. Usually about 30-45 minutes door-to-door, depending on how lucky I get with the bus (minds out of the gutter).

The weather was great yesterday - sunny, mid-70s. Perfect walking weather. Since I knew it was supposed to be crappy today (and Mother Nature, she did not disappoint), I figured I would take advantage of this slice of summer paradise. So I walk through Green Park, and angle up towards Piccadilly, thinking that I would breeze down through Covent Garden and grab a bus there.

The first sign that something wasn't right should have been the huge clot of people walking in the street towards Piccadilly circus. But it was 6 o'clock, and I had been at work since 9:30, so I wasn't really paying that much attention. Then I hit the pack, and foreward progress stopped. And then I remembered, looking at the huge TV screen, that some genius (read absolute lunatic fool) had organized a mini-Grand Prix in the West End. Genius! Yes! The bobby (bobbie?) I asked said they thought better than a quarter mil would should up, but he put it more at two hondo. But that meant streets closed for blocks. So I had to take a short-cut through the Waterstones, and then out onto a back street. Somewhere that I have yet to find in my A to Z. Followed the crowd into a dead end (hello lemmings), back past the drunk people at a bar who thought that watching people go back and forth, once in hope of escape, then later in disgust, was incredibly entertaining. More aimless wandering, denied at every cross street. Finally, somehow, I ended up down by the Admiralty Arch, and thought I would just grab the tube at Trafalgar.

The English National Opera, however, had other plans. They were going to stage La Boheme on the Square tonight, and so had the entire thing fenced off so they could move big lights and speakers around. (As an aside, it got rained out, but again, hello genius? How many events did we try to cram into a half-mile?). It turns out that, in addition to the Grand Prix and the Opera, the National Society was having a shindig, Her Maj had thrown a garden party, and there was some big party down at the South Bank Centre that included folks in posh dress and weird circus people.

I ended up, finally, on a bus from Covent Garden with half of central London.

So it is clearly NOT the best option to walk, always. I should have just got on the tube like all the other mole-lemmings.

Today: Biblical rain and wind. Plus thunder and lightning. Woot!

Opa!

2004-07-04T14:59:00.000-07:00

Greece wins, and goes nuts. Opa! Portugal loses, and Ronaldo cries like the pansy diva that he is. Boo-hoo. Would have been better if it were England on top, but we can't have everything. And now we put Euro 2004 to bed. (Sniff)

Likewise with the Wimber. A-Rod played his heart out today, and it was fun to watch. Well, the first three sets, at least (and the first set in particular). Federer, though - man plays tennis like buttah. It was a fun fortnight. Next year, strawberries and Pimms chez moi. You're all invited.

And today we enter that pre-Olympic Lent - 40 days and 39 nights until my favorite event. We'll see how many of our young Olympians remember to kiss the apparatus after they win the gold. A very important part of the ritual.

I successfully moved from the BS House to the Wharf, which was less painful that I was anticipating. Which is good. I kinda dig the new digs - cool location, more space, kitchen, lounge, and a telly. Yes. A telly. I could have died a happy man when I saw it, and today, in true Sunday fashion, I had a lay-in and then spent the rest of the day on the bench (the "couch") watching tennis. It was pimp. I'll take pictures so you all can live vicariously in trendy Southwark.

Tonight, G-Lo put herself firmly on the permanent positive points wall with an impromptu Fourth of July barbeque, complete with little American flags on the ends of straws. And apple pie. (Which reminds me of a speech I gave during a debate in Fowler's Great Decisions class as a junior in high school - I was supposed to represent the protectionist group "Americans for America" and I exhorted my classmates to protect "apple pie and the Fourth of July." I ended up winning the debate. It was awesome). We had some chicken drummies, some beef, some snausages, and the pie. It was fantastic. I was a bit bummed when she bailed on the tennis, but her text about having a "surprise" instead was spot on. It was sweet. Only thing better would have been fireworks. Thanks, baby.

Happy Two Hundred and Twenty-Eight. Enjoy the jarts and the pies and the burgers on the grill. And the fireworks. And your day off tomorrow. I'll be working...

Scandanavian Existential Angst

2004-07-01T14:14:00.000-07:00

Happy July. I'm having a bit of trouble with the year being suddenly half-over, but whatev. Time flies when you're having fun, so I must be having a blast. Or something.

The tubes were closed yesterday because we hadn't had a strike for a while and the RMT decided that it was time. So we descended, if only for a day, into transport hell. See, fun. Lots of it. The first rule of travel in central London: always walk. Always. I guarantee you'll get wherever it is you're going faster than if you mess with public transport. Especially when one of the union bosses has his panties in a bundle.

Been working on my new project, still with the British Red Cross but now looking at service delivery planning and resource allocation models based on indicators of social need. Which is cool. G-Lo (as far as we know) is on the team, which is an added bonus. But since I've pissed away so much time already, we are left with a mere 61 days to put something together. I once had aspirations to get a distinction, but I think that ship sailed long ago.

Dirrty slept over the past few nights. Not in any scandal-causing sense, surely to your disappointment. But more in the long tradition of guest bed occupants, joining the ranks of such luminaries as Court, Bridie and Sean Dogg. She did the crazy and chopped off her hair in my bathroom, which earned me her everlasting respect in my role as the enabler. She has pictures on her blog, taken by yours truly.

Thanks to Quentin I was able to watch Troy, complete with the ever-helpful Chinese (or maybe Korean) subtitles. The less-than-DVD quality was quickly forgiven, since it was a terrible movie. The dialogue? Hello? Cheesy doesn't even get close. I suppose the battle sequences were well done, as was the set for the city itself. But if it were me, there isn't a chance I could have made it through my lines with a straight face. Homer must be rolling in his grave. The Hulk did a decent job, and the Elf brought the pretty but he needs to get away from the bow and arrow schtick. Seriously, put on a green dress and a pair of tights and he would have been in a different movie. That I liked a lot more. But if you want some Brad Ass, this is your movie. In all of its sweaty and grime-covered glory. Twice. {Shudder}

Speaking of bad movies, the latest Re-enactment by Bunnies: Titanic. You want to go there, Mrs Torrence.

My plan tonight was to pop in a little of the Hunt for the Красного октября and find my happy place, but somewhere along the line that reality diverged from my own. I also should probably be packing, since TPTB are making me move on Saturday so that they can rent my room to a foolish touron at an outrageous rate. And I have accumulated an impressive amount of crap in the past nine months. And CB isn't here to find a place to pack everything and in the process make it all better. Bah. I'll just have to take tomorrow off, now, and deal with it then. Nothing like procrastination as a motivator.

So too, apparently, is saying you're going to quit your job in motivating the Man to give you a promotion. Or at least for Tracey. When I tried it didn't work out in quite the same way (read, blackballed). So good for her. I guess. But Damn the Man!

And now, finally, on to the angst (of the Scandanavian Existential variety, no less). I've been angst-ridden myself, recently, so it is appropriate. (Does "I've been angst-ridden" sound like saying "I had cramps" or "I've had diarrhoea" to you? Because it does to me. Because I'm four.) I bring you (courtesy of "The Earth is Dirrty. The sea is Dirrty.") Strindberg & Helium.

The heavens rain slush.

We are already in Hell
-August Strindberg, Inferno, 1898.

Sonyk-Rok

2004-06-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

England lost on penalty kicks in a heartbreaker on Thursday, marking the end of my social life. For a day or two, at least. And since we pretty much have to write Friday off due to the unbelievable hangover that I had. To those of you I didn't drunk dial before my calling card ran out of credit, I apologize. The Moms got a call, which was big. I don't think I'd called home with my friends Mr Barley and Mr Hops before.

The silver lining is that France lost, which makes me happy. But the Dutch beat Sweden. Boo. Now we root for Portugal, even though I can't stand their show pony Cristiano "Look at my Two Huge Earrings" Ronaldo. Lose the ice, pretty boy.

So now we have to wait for the next sporting extravaganza, which are only 47 days away. Walker, Texas Ranger took for the Athens today, to do something with the NBA. Its all who you know, people. Make a note. Get to know people. And then introduce me. I'll do the same. Promise. But seriously, if anybody knows anybody involved with, say the NYC 2012 bid, hook me up. Or Vancouver. I could handle Canadia. I mean, if Dirrty is from Vancouver it can't be all bad.

Can Lance pull off number 6? I'm trying to rally the troops for a pilgrimage down to the Champs to see if he can grab the maillot jaune one more time. So far the response has been underwhelming. But I've got a few weeks, still, to win them over.

In the grand tradition of entertaining links, the one that brought you the Trombone Dance, I present Mi Ri "Sonyk-Rok" Park, US Air Guitar Champion. Be sure to watch the clip from Conan. Also notice the Hello Kitty thing C-Diddy is wearing (what would you call that? A breastplate?). But Sonyk-Rok is the bomb. And she's going to be in Finland for the World Championships in August. Maybe the troops will be more excited about a road trip out there... Thanks to P-Viddy for the link.

In other news, the BS House is now in hotel mode, so we're getting kicked out next weekend so they can extort unwitting tourons. This weekend we're home to some youth choir from the US. They had dinner with G-Lo and I this evening. Anyway, if my phone number changes, I'll let you know, and if anyone is dying to send me something in the post I'll let you know the new addy as soon as I do.

Tomorrow, work. Tuesday, rail strike. Excitement.

Roo-ney! Roo-ney! Roo-ney!

2004-06-22T15:22:00.000-07:00

England carried the day last night, after a few close calls. 4-2, and thank Jeebus for Wayne "Shrek" Roo-ney (pronounced "roo-nay", chanted repeatedly, after several beers). We play Portugal on Thursday. In Portugal. So its probably going to be brutal. I'm not sure if the Beeb America is going to cover the match, but they should. Or it might be on one of the bajillion channels on digital or satellite or whatever. Look for it. Paint the St George Cross on your face. Drink good beer. Chant "Roo-ney!" (see #6) and sing "En-ger-land" (see #2) to the tune of "Stars and Stripes Forever" (to which I always want to sing "Oh be kind to your web-footed friends, for a duck maybe somebody's uncle", which apparently is a Guys & St Thomas Hospital rugby song). And win or lose, you have to riot afterwards.

And now, in no particular order, the coolest things I've seen today:

• A paper (Word format) on political bias in the news media, courtesy of your favorite economics professor and mine, Dr. Tabarrok

• The Porsche 911 GT2. In yellow, or maybe metallic black. But the yellow with the yellow seatbelts? Tits. If anybody has about $200 grand they don't know what to do with, this would be it. And I would be happy to drive it for you.

• In a similar vein, the Maybach. This was the car parked in front of the Lady Moura in Monaco. It has reclining seats. With footrests. These are like first class seats in an airplane. If you're not in that stratospheric market, another good option would be the new Maserati Quattroporte, which has a sticker of a mere $90K.

• The in-dash connector for your iPod in recent model BMWs and MINIs. A 325xi is only $500 a month...

• The new Airport Express. Which I didn't see today, but its totally cool so I'm going to mention it. Yes, its a portable wireless base station that plugs into a wall outlet and is the size of your A/C adapter. If you don't own a Mac, go get one. We'll wait. You won't be sorry.

I didn't see the Venus or the Serena today. Maybe tomorrow...

Nice

2004-06-21T04:42:00.000-07:00

Is nice. (Ba dum, ching!) Actually, nice doesn't even come close to describing it. The Côte d'Azur would be my new favorite place. Its so awesome. I should have pictures back tonight (for a small fortune, but whatev) so I can let them tell the story. But here are the highlights:

• The Mediterranean is awesome, but a wee bit chilly. And the beach in Nice is not sand but rocks, which were not so nice for my feet. But I was in the ocean, floating on the waves, looking at all the beautiful people.

• Despite an extraordinary number of beautiful people, most of the women who went topless on the beach were not so hot. Lots of saggy boobs. And disgustingly dark tans. Like walking leather bags. I mean, I like the tan (and have a rather nice one now) but not when you look like varnished wood.

• It wasn't crowded. Or as crowded as I thought it was going to be. We never had to wait for a table when we wanted to eat, there was plenty of space on the plage, there were always seats on the trains. So the take away lesson, folks, is go to the south of France in mid-June. The high season is July and August (especially August, when all of Europe goes on holiday). So go in June. And take me with you. You know, for a tourguide.

• Monaco is cool. The casino was nearly empty, which was weird. At least compared to the Vegas, which is just polluted with people. The marina is the place to hang out. Gracing the marina with is immense presence was the Lady Moura, which is the 6th largest yacht in the world. And its tits, people. Sweet mother of the Lord. There are pictures. Should anyone have a 50+ meter yacht and would like to take me out, or needs a cabin boy, let me know. I could handle that.

• Cannes is cool, but not as much as Nice or Monaco. The beaches are sandy, though, which is a bonus. And there are some big boats there, too. The place where they have the film festival is not at all glamorous, but I suppose you throw in a little Tarantino and any place gets its cool on.

I asked for my pictures to come back on a disc, so I can share with the world. They should be done by 5, which is crazy, since they're slides, but hey, I'm not going to complain. Except maybe about the price, but its too late for that now.

Here in the London is cool and rainy, and that's because the Fortnight starts today. Its time for the Championships at the All-England Lawn Tennis Club, which means my commute to work out in Wimbledon is going to be a pain in the butt for the next two weeks. But maybe I'll see the Venus and the Serena.

England v Croatia tonight. We win, we move on, we lose, we're out. Riots at 10.

IT Services

2004-06-14T02:35:00.000-07:00

So I finally have my network back today. Well, it was there a bit last night, but it was pretty spotty. Stupid IT Services. There wasn't much excitement between then and now, though, so don't feel that you've missed out. The rundown: worked Friday, then wasted several hours in a political argument with Quentin. Slept on Saturday. Worked yesterday, well it wasn't really "work" but "work-related" - a training course on tactical crisis management. Which was cool. And included free lunch.

Last night, in a heartbreaker, England lost 2-1 to the Frogs. What makes it worse than simply losing to the French is that we were up 1-0 until the 88th minute. We lost on penalty kicks. Stupid penalties. I missed the riots, though. I was up in Finsbury Park, all the hooligans were south in Croydon. After the game we fed our sorrows, courtesy of G-Lo's kitchen (under the watchful eye of Delia) and Dominos. And watched some Big Brother. Which is just as bad as Real World, but with more nudity.

Today I think I'm working from home, because it was so hot last night that I probably slept for all of 10 minutes. I just need the ladies to come in and clean the room before I can take my first of what will be several naps. The forecast for tonight doesn't sound good either: "Very muggy; sultry in some conurbations." Wondrous.

Cats and doggies

2004-06-10T14:04:00.000-07:00

As of yesterday, Rochester was still on the map. Over 4 inches of rain later, who knows. So much rain fell that the river flooded - flood stage, after the flood control project, is 962 feet. Yes. That's a lot of feet. That's a lot of water. According to the Moms there was a good 6 inches of water over the highway, mudslides, and townhouses about to float away. Excitement. I haven't heard from the mothership yet today, but they're on top of a hill, so I'm thinking the house is still there. I'm not sure how Dads got home, or the Little Oz, since the roads were under water.

I could go for some major rains. And thunder and lightning. Clear the air. So I'd stop sticking to the desk.

Nothing big happening here. Worked. Wrote plans. Crunched numbers. Made pretty graphs. I was like a pig in you-know-what. A bit more of the same tomorrow, I think, and then apparently I'm going to meet Shane Cooper and his ex-girlfriend for a pint. Which will be amusing. Ah, big game sport...

Went to the Philharmonia tonight, my first symphony in way too long. Brahms Piano Concerto #1, played by the super pretty Hélène Grimaud. She's a pretty good pianist, too. Then Beethoven, Symph 7, under the baton of the one, the only Hugh Wolff. Man has got a serious nose. I first saw him as director of the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra. Now I think he's with the Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra. I think. Hélène plays with wolves. Which is really cool.

Got a phone call from the American Red Cross today. Setting up an interview for a position at the regional headquarters in Sacramento. A bit off the map, as least where I was thinking I would be heading, but I'm not going to say no to an interview.

I also discovered today that I am a mere 27.5 miles from Nasty. Titsey Park is a bit [before you click, be forewarned that the site is PG-13] closer.

I'm going to take my nightly shower. But tonight, as an added treat, I'm going to stand, wet, in front of the fan I bought this afternoon...

Hot. Hot. Hot.

2004-06-08T13:25:00.000-07:00

It was almost 90 today. You're thinking, "Oh big deal." Well, here, it would be. It gets much above 80 and people start combusting. See, most of Europe isn't big on that little life-saver called air conditioning. No. Not so much. I was in the office today and they had every door and window in the place wide open. I was in the cool office, and I had it all to myself. Mu-ah-ha-ha!

The heat is also playing hell with my allergies. I've been a snot factory this week. Yes, this is a lovely image, I know. And I've been sneezing constantly.

I'm sticking to the desk. Not cool. Ha ha, literally.

There was something I was going to report, but I forgot. The heat. Making my brain. Melt.

Good night, Ronnie

2004-06-05T13:12:00.000-07:00

I had a different topic for today, but I figure instead we should observe a moment of silence for Ronnie.

That said, nothing new to report. Set out to fill a roll of film today, but between the dark clouds and the people pollution I didn't get as far as I hoped. Tomorrow, maybe.

In other news, Court just had her Quarter Century. Happy Quarter Century, Court! She's also made the long flight back to the Estados Unidos, ending the Oz-Court Era of European history. Now we'll just have to wait to see how we're judged by history...

Skippy

2004-06-04T03:20:00.000-07:00

Ordinarily I'm a JIF guy, but I splurged and bought a tub of Skippy at Sainsbury's the other day. (There wasn't any JIF, otherwise that's what I'd have). Sweet holy Jesus is it good. Peanut butter in Britain is crap - gritty pasty stuff that tastes more like sugar than peanuts, doesn't spread well. But the Skippy, complete with little American flag on the side, is creamy, peanutty, spreads like silk - this is heaven, people. Heaven.

I would kill for a bag of Cheetos.

Or an Outback Special.

Llamas

2004-06-02T09:41:00.000-07:00

Started my "dissertation project" this week, which has yet to contribute towards any sort of large paper, but its only been two days. I'm working in the Emergency Planning Office of the London branch of the British Red Cross. Which is cool. In theory, I'm supposed to be developing a comprehensive emergency response plan. Which is cool. And a bit mind-boggling. So far, I've organized a meeting about diversity, taken some dictation, edited a policy document, and read some plans. There are between 4 and 6 folks that work in the planning office, and two guys that do medical loan, and one guy that does something with training that I haven't been able to figure out. Between us, there are two offices and three computers. And a conference room. Which makes for interesting contortions of logging in and out of computers as they are available. I've been able to lay claim to one machine for most of the past two days, but I think its because I'm the new guy. Tomorrow I'm representing the BRC at a meeting of voluntary agencies and the Kingston borough council about emergency preparedness and response. I have no idea what on earth I say, but the head of the office handed me the letter and the agenda and said "would you care to go?" Good times.

Speaking of the Red Cross, I got my first email from the Executive Director of my former chapter in months today, after she offered me a job and then decided that she couldn't wait for me, hired somebody else, and has yet to let me know. Officially. Even after three phone calls and probably a half dozen polite emails asking what the hell is going on. So I got copied on the distribution of Board minutes, even though I had to resign from the Board when it because clear I wasn't going to be going back to the Bend. And it just pisses me off that she can't bother to send me a quick note acknowledging what we both know happened and just say hey, thanks, next time. Its almost childish in its un-professionalism. And at the same time, I have to sit and think if I did anything wrong, but after reading all of the emails that I sent I can't imagine what it would have been. But it appears that one will never know.

On a lighter note, Diane's boyfriend has llamas. Yes. Llamas. Here they are.
From left to right: Dalai, Steve, Fernando, Lorenzo, and Osama bin Llama.

Tyrone is not in Kansas anymore

2004-05-31T16:50:00.000-07:00

And neither is Manute. So you remember the tornadoes at the 500? Tyrone was there. And he miraculously survived, so the plans for world domination can proceed.

Just finished watching the finale of this season of Alias, which has had a claim to the "Best Damn Show on Television," particularly after West Wing took a dangerous step towards later-season ER which is no longer worth watching. Which is too bad, because it used to be a pretty sweet show. So now we just cross our fingers that JJ and crew take the next seven months (yes, count 'em, seven) to figure out where they're going with our Alias because if it ends up like X-Files I am gonna be pissed. How hard can it be, people?

I ended up on some website this afternoon (and I know that sounds bad) that have the "Very Secret Diaries" of the [pervy hobbit-fancying] characters in the Lord of the Rings movies. They're pant-wettingly funny, so have a clear pair of knickers on standby.

Tomorrow we start the old dissertation project. And we try to figure out if there is a trip to Warren, Michigan in our summer plans. Which could be cool.

And Court, of course.

2004-05-31T06:20:00.000-07:00

An oversight on my part.

Update on the excitement: just finished the first book I've read for fun since the start of Lent term. Lucky You by Hiassen. Very entertaining. I couldn't find the Tom O'Brien that Ms Kohn suggested, so that will have to wait for the next trip to Waterstones. The Moms suggested one called Memorial Day, which is fitting, but I can't remember the author. Hello Amazon...

Speaking of, Happy Memorial Day. Enjoy the day off. I'm going to go find me something else to read, I think, before it starts to rain.

Debris!

2004-05-30T17:04:00.000-07:00

Watched the 500 with QW today. Well, when it wasn't raining. On a real TV, complete with all the trappings of ABC. Hooray for US networks. Until they kicked us out of the bar. After that we can to settle for the "live" coverage online and frantic emails back and forth. Until they called the race. Due to rain. And later a tornado. At the Speedway, if the Weather Service is right. Hello Twister.

What I would give for a good old-fashioned thunderstorm. According to the Moms, Dave Carr hasn't pushed the button yet this year. The man is getting soft. We used to go to the basement every time the wind got above 40mph. That was a great summer. Maybe tomorrow, since it being a bank holiday means the weather is bound to be pants. But it looks like its been quite a day back in the upper Midwest.

Anyway, I was rooting for Big Gulp, who came in second, after blowing his lead through an early pit stop. Fool. But the guy than won drives for Letterman, which is kind of cool. And was taking the place of a dude that broke practically every bone in his body in a nasty crash last fall. Fun.

So I'm not sure anybody but Dirrty and the Moms reads this anymore, after my unfortunate absence during the exam period. Which is a bummer. Since it was all for you, people. Not that I can blame you. Because I am boring. But I will press on. Because I care.

Tomorrow = bank holiday, which means that everything will be closed and I'll have to get out of bed before the canteen stops serving brunch, because its the only meal they're going to give us. I'm trying not to eat so much of the brunch, because as good as the traditional English breakfast is my arteries can handle only so many servings of bacon and eggs. Same for my vast, doughy midsection, but we're not even going to go there.

And then there were none, or, math is hard, let's go shopping...

2004-05-28T02:49:00.000-07:00

What up, yo?

After almost 9 months, its over. Well, the bit with the lectures and readings and essays and exams, at least. Wrote my last exam Monday, it was pants, but now its over. Got completely hammered on Monday night, much to the amusement of the fam, who were out to dinner for the Little Oz's birthday when I called, and ended up in the Thames. Yes, the river. And no, not completely. G-Lo and V and Court and I decided we wanted to go sit by the river after the Tuns closed and so we ended up on this little stairway into the river across from the Eye. It was cool And then V decided she wanted to walk down the stairway. And it looked like so much fun we all had to do it. Except Court, because she was smart. So I slid down the stairs, got covered in slime, put my hand in the river, and now can say I've been in the Thames. And, happily, my hand hasn't rotted and fallen off. Yet.

Tuesday brought a nasty headache and a power lunch with some of the folks from the ND Centre and alumni club. The Director of the center took us to his gentleman's club, the Athanaeum (and no, there were no strippers, poles or mirrors - this is "gentleman's club" in the traditional British sense). There was, however, a really good meal. Incredibly fattening, but it was go-od. Delicious, even. Court left me for la France Tuesday afternoon, so I took a nap.

Wednesday. Had a lay-in. Read. For pleasure. I had almost forgotten how. Played video games. Rented Charlie's Angels from the hall library. Cameron Diaz has got some moves, man. Woman can dance. And I had always thought that Lucy was smokin'. (smokin'). But Drew? Rowr. I had no idea, but she should wear racing coveralls more often. Rowr.

Yesterday. Again with the Angels (rowr), then up to school to return my library books (to the tune of a £5.50 fine). Ran into Dirrty et al after the BORTs exam (that's Basic Operational Research Techniques, for the layperson). Did some retail therapy, and actually ended up bringing a couple things home. Work clothes, now that I have to start being responsible and working in an office at least a couple days. Dirrty did well, but her project is paid so she can afford it. Must be nice. Then we went out to trendy north London to meet some of our classmates for a celebratory drink, even though the folks that organized it (and bothered to show up) aren't done until the middle of next month. Thanos brought back some awesome little not-bakclava-but-almost things from Greece. I highly recommend Greek desserts, folks. Hello diabetes!

So now I'm on vacation. Sort of. I have a meeting with my people at the British Red Cross on Tuesday (who have no recollection of any of our previous discussions, apparently, which is a real good sign. Or not.) and then I suppose I'll have to start doing a little work. But other than that it'll be fun fun fun 'til Daddy takes the T-bird away. Which will probably involve a lot of sleeping, since wouldn't you know it its going to rain now. After three weeks of California-quality beautiful summer weather. Figures.

A shout-out today to my college roomie and number one homie Mark, who, in an effort to cure me of "my unhealthy obsession with Gomez" (who I didn't go see last night, so there) sent me a couple CDs for my birthday. That is quality, people. Quality.

Today: bookstore, pick up pants from tailor, return movie, maybe get a new one, veg out. Pranav is in Austria, Dirrty is in Bristol, G-Lo is having girls' night (for "Black Friday" - the last eppy of Friends and the new season on Big Brother on 4) so I'm flying solo.

...and one to go

2004-05-22T10:11:00.000-07:00

I am continually amazed by my ability to piss away a day that should have been spent studying. If it were an artform, I would be its Michelangelo. I sat down to start revising for my last exam at, oh, 11:30 this morning and in the following, gee, 7 hours I have really not accomplished much of anything. And I can only consistently remember 8 of Ed Schein's 10 Principles of Process Consultancy. But that's what tomorrow is for.

I have discovered some fun and entertaining things that are not educational, though, like The Shining and The Exorcist in 30 seconds, re-enacted by bunnies.

I don't want to go there Mrs. Torrence...

Two down

2004-05-20T05:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I wrote my second exam - three hours, three essays, problem structuring methods. My hand still hurts. It went decently well, almost derailed completely on essay #2, but I was able to rally for #3. We've had the essay titles for a month and a half, so ol' Rosie is not going to be so generous on the marks, but I'd be happy with a merit.

I never thought I'd say this, but its hot in my room. Its been close to 80 and brilliantly sunny the past couple of days (which is great, don't get me wrong), and humid as my gym bag. Which is nice when you're sitting on the steps of St Clements with a pint, but not so nice when you're trying to sleep. Who knew? Its grey and cloudy today, and I am hoping that we're going to bring on the rain. I would go for some thunder and lightning, too, but I don't want to be too demanding. The Roch has been having some great storm action this spring. Bring on the storm action.

La Court arrives tomorrow, so she can hear some English and go to the Tower and have a Subway. Sunday we're going to see Howard Shore conduct the London Phil through his score for the LoTR movies. Can you say tentpole?

One down

2004-05-17T13:43:00.000-07:00

Today = my comprehensive exam. Some genius decided to schedule it first, so my other two exams follow, and I suppose you could call the entire set the comp. But really, words, and who cares? Wasn't too bad. Didn't go poorly, could have gone better, but am cautiously optimistic that I might get a good mark. There may yet be a trip to the Fat Duck in my future.

Yesterday = Finn became Finn, Esq. Congrats, baby. All he needs to do is pass the bar (and after my glowing recommendation they should accept him) and he's got his spot on the support staff. And as if it could get better than that, he has an office - with a secretary. A secretary. Of his own. I'm hoping she has a secretary name, like Laverne or Delores or Phyllis. And brings the sass.

Saturday = studying. Yeah, boring, but it happens. Mayday spent his last night in London Saturday chez moi, which we marked with a pint on the river. One of his profs from the centre met us out, which was hilarious.

Friday = more with the studying (even though it happened before the studying on Saturday, we're sort of going Memento-style here tonight). Something else probably happened, but I can't remember what.

Thursday = my quarter century. Dirrty and G-Lo joined me for the dinner and the chocolate cake with wasabi.

5:30am

2004-05-12T21:41:00.000-07:00

Its 5:30am, and I'm folding t-shirts.

I can't quite get the edges even yet.

I'm too sexy

2004-05-11T04:10:00.000-07:00

My new blog, that is. Blogger got a makeover (and its tits) so I figure that mine was due for a little nip and tick. And now its sexy. Go on, admit it. I know you think so.

Not to be outdone by Court's trip to the Europarliament, QueueW hooked yours truly up with a tour of the real Parliament. Which was sweet. No pictures, though, because that's against the rules. Our tour guide was this 70 year old former Royal Marine who was a dirty little man. He made crass jokes the entire time, which was hilarious. About how he'd bathed twice already that day, once with his wife and once of his own. And then he bust out this picture of her, and she's, maybe, 40. Rock on, old man. I think a few of the little old ladies on our tour were scandalised. Ha ha.

I have done jack since Thursday night, except for tour Westminster. Oh, I lie. I did the laundry and I cleaned my room. But that's not so much. I have a week before my exams, so I've been "studying." Yes, really, I have. A bit of a slow start today, since the sleep was not so good last night. Its so humid here that the walls are wet. Which is gross. It might not rain today, apparently, and this is good news. My room needs to dry out first.

In other news, I've taken a position at Mayo Clinic starting in the fall. Its just a limited tenure gig, but enough to get some experience and put a little green back in the bank. So the clock is ticking, people. If you haven't been over here yet you've got about three and a half months. Get busy.

Jolly. Rogered.

2004-05-06T15:51:00.000-07:00

So I lurves me the Tuns. And I lurves me the Stella. She's blond, bubbly, and knows how to get a guy to relax and have some fun.

Ah, fun. It has been so long. Where have you been?

A shout out to Mayday. You = the bomb, baby.

Hoo. rah. Its time to bathe, and then a 12 hour sleep. Tentpole.

We're taking a TV timeout

2004-05-06T07:47:00.000-07:00

Its the end of the third quarter, and so far Oz leads the LSE 2-1, although the LSE has just rallied to score and has good field position for the closing action. We might get some sudden death action, folks, stay tuned...

Just printed the last of four essays that I've been working on the past month or so. This last one was a difficult birth. I won't be sad to see it go. Its not been a big week, otherwise. 30 pages written, 3-4 hours of sleep per night, and one killer migrane.

The highlight of the week, and probably one of the top events of the entire year so far - Tuesday night, Yo-Yo Ma. My Fairy Godmother hooked a brother up with a pair of tickets on the condition that I take a lady friend. And I was more than happy to oblige. Grash got to see some classic Yo and got to meet the man himself after the performance. It was sweet. It always is. He's played on or around my birthday the past couple years - last year the Moms, the FG, and Cybergran came down to meet me in Chicago, and Court and Mer came along for the show. Good times.

In 15 minutes I will have handed in the last paper of my masters (except for the dissertation, but that's another battle for another day), and no more than 15 minutes after that I'll be enjoying the company of a bubbly blond named Stella.

A shout out to the Little Oz, who has a paper due today as well. Good luck, boss.

Billy Joe MacAllister

2004-05-02T17:21:00.000-07:00

I don't remember exactly how, but the Tallahatchie Bridge is somehow a part of the family mythology. I think its through marriage rather than blood, and its quite possible that I'm making it all up - after some of the dreams I've been having lately this doesn't seem odd to me at all - but I'd been singing the little bit of the Ode to Billy Joe that I'd heard on the TV oh those many months ago when I had a TV to watch. I'm not sure what the point of this little bit was supposed to be, so I'm going to let it go.

My other great musical find was yesterday, when I finally identified the Rob Zombie that the Little Oz and I heard in the car in Chicago on one of our trips down to school. The iTunes music store is far too much fun, especially when one is on a series of short deadlines. So I've been rocking out to Living Dead Girl, which is a pretty sweet tune. Its now the lead track of the Angry White Man Mix (v2), which is how I psych myself up to be productive.

It would also have been the perfect track for the episode of Alias a couple weeks ago where we had some GothSyd and GothVaughn action. Oh man, it would have been sweet. German Goth techno club, so the genre's right. And its about the living dead girl. And didn't everybody think that Syd was dead at the beginning of the season, and went and married other women who have turned out to be double agents? But no. Not dead. Living. So there'd have been meaning on a higher level. Sweet. Suh. Weet. If only...

It might be! It could be! It is!

2004-05-01T12:18:00.000-07:00

In my last post (which I realize was a while ago, but I've been busy, so deal) I said I wanted the rain. For two weeks. Mother Nature must have been paying attention. The bonus: thunder and lightning. It was sweet. All I needed was for Dave Carr to push the button. But the siren is in the front yard back home, so it wouldn't have done much for me here.

Its finals season, hooray hooray caloo calay. I've put two papers down in the past week, two to go before Thursday. In the process I think I've screwed up my eyes, because its a struggle to focus on the computer screen. And I have this headache that's not like a regular headache but this perpetual thing. So if I end up with health insurance next year I might have to get checked out.

Thursday morning I almost got in a knock-down drag-out brawl with this chick in the library. I have spent most of my waking hours on the third floor of the BLPES, at the benches, on the wireless net, typing my little heart out. It is a pretty popular place to study, what with the windows and the network access and the desks and stuff. So this chick decided to bring every god damn piece of paper she owned with her to the library, and it took up two spaces. There being nowhere else to sit in the entire building, I asked her politely if someone was sitting next to her. She said no, but she needed both places. I said like hell. She said that she understands my problem but there's nothing she can do, since she needs to study. I said I'm sure we can work something out. She says well if all you're going to do is use your laptop that would be fine, just don't move my stuff. I said I'm going to use my laptop, and we're going to move some of your stuff. And so I did. Because I am a badass. And was having some problems with the stress management on Thursday, but she saw her folly and did the smart thing. Which was not piss me off. Not that she was even using the stuff that was on my space, but whatever. She must have been French or something. Dirrty said it best - "Cow."

And we're not just getting out paper on this week, but we've also got to make a decision about what to do next year. I have this offer from Goldman Sachs, which would be cool and all and I could stay in London and all that. But I'm not sure I'm down with staying in London and all that. Right now its all that's on the table, but I'm hoping that come Monday there will be an offer from Mayo to do basically the same thing for a year as an intern. Except they don't give interns benefits. Which is a pretty crappy deal, if you ask me (Pranav, "It'd be full time, right? Isn't that illegal?"). I'm still holding out hope that somebody from the government will call and say why don't you come down to Washington. Because that would be cool.

I've been listening to some classic Bob & Tom the past couple days. A little "After Hours Sports with Larry Caray." Which usually makes me wet my pants. And reminds me of Kirkie. And today what is waiting in my inbox? And email from the Ensign himself. He's struck out on BUD/S twice, but the good news is that he's probably going to be down at Portsmouth later this summer, so we can grab a pint and he'll give me a tour of the boat. Because that would be cool.

Happy May Day. Socialist workers of the world, unite!

No. Sleep. 'Til Brooklyn.

2004-04-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

And it looks like Brooklyn won't be until the end of next week. Fire up the coffee pot, baby. We've got some excitement ahead.

I'm behind. And that's not zesty. But I'm about 3 inches short of finishing the first hurdle. And its been a real bitch, let me tell you. I'm going to enjoy punting this one. Its pants, but its going to be out of my hair, and since the class its for was also pants its fine by me. Stupid OR Methodology.

The Quote of the Day is supplied by my ambulance-driving playwrite friend Sharon. Thank you Sharon.

Oz: "Do you think coming within an inch and a half of the bottom margin qualifies as 'filling' the page?"

Sharon: "I prefer to think they mean spiritual fulfillment rather than arbitrary spatial relations."

In other news, I discovered yesterday how I can play DVDs from outside the US on my laptop without having to mess with the settings. This is at once wonderful and horrible, because it opens up a whole new world of distracting entertainments. Such as the first 11 episodes of West Wing, season 2, that Grash lent me months ago but I had been afraid to put in because they're region 2. Well, I worry no more, and only have seven more episodes to go.

Its been gorgeous out recently. Which is either a sign of the coming of the Apocalypse or of the Lord's sick, twisted humor. I want the rain. For the next two weeks. Bring it.

Finally, if you can't watch your TV, TWoP it. I cite the illustrious Regina, on Alias:

Somewhere in Little Tokyo. Syd and Vaughn are in a van just outside the entrance to Radon's club. Vaughn tells Syd that the west stairwell is her best bet for entrance to the sublevels. Syd asks if there are any countermeasures, but as far as they can tell, it's only guards. Well, only guards with guns. But that's not important right now. They're sort of working on the fly in this particular op. Syd, by the way, is wearing a black wig with really short bangs. Normally, Jennifer Garner could look good in a Phyllis Diller special, but this time? Not so much. The bangs are…wrong. Just wrong. Vaughn thinks so too, but he's too polite to say so. Instead, he just wants to talk about what happened in Richmond. What, you mean the wife-sex? Yeah. Syd doesn't want to talk about that, dude. She's all, you were just doing your job, man. I understand. "And she is your wife," Syd manages to say without barfing. Vaughn just kind of nods his head in resigned agreement. "Not for long," he says, making countless fans across the country simultaneously shriek, "WOOOOO!"

I couldn't have said it better myself.

I miss the TV

2004-04-22T09:23:00.000-07:00

Mickey, who has cemented his lead as The Bomb, can be credited with keeping me sane. He sends me Alias episodes. That he records onto his computer off his TV and puts onto DVDs. Because he is both cool and smart like that. So I've spent the better part of the past few days watching the last nine episodes of Alias that I have missed since they don't play the current season in this God-forsaken country. And thank the Lord for TWoP, which stands in for Mickey for those shows that he doesn't record.

And it turns out I'm also missing Iron Chef: America and, worst, a documentary on the Discovery Channel on feral children. You know, raised by wolves and stuff like that. Why, God? Why?

I had a little list of things I was going to blog about, but I can't find it, so I'm going to have to rely on my memory. Which isn't good for much aside from a fairly large amount of "cocktail" knowledge. I mean, stuff like all the crap I'm going to need to know for my exams? Negative, ghostrider. The neurons are full.

First, go to the Annals of Improbable Research. And enjoy. Especially the Ig-Nobel Prizes. My recent favorites:

• Dr Mara Sidoli, for her paper entitled "Farting as a Defense Against Unspeakable Dread."

I would go on, but I'm laughing to hard. The list of winners is some of the best reading I've done in a long time.

Today has been a complete an utter waste, except for two things. 1) My computer works, again. Except the way it displays fonts is strange, but I'm not sure what to do about it. 2) Colette emailed. I think I might go for a jog in a bit, after I've given the half-can of Pringles I've eaten a chance to digest a bit. And, no, I'm not stressing out...

There'll be more when I remember it.

Funny Bunny

2004-04-13T12:29:00.000-07:00

London came back to life today after four days of Oz not being able to find something to eat because everyone was on holiday. Note to self: plan ahead for bank holiday weekends. It was a bit post-Apocalyptic to walk on Oxford Street without the company of about a bajillion other people. But hey, if that's what I get, I say bring on the Horsemen.

And just in time for my parents to leave the sun came out. It smells of spring now; the flowers are in bloom, the buds on the trees bursting. And, best of all, its starting to get (a little) warm(er). So, like lizards, we've all crawled out of our small, dark holes to sun ourselves on the pavement. I used to think that having winter was good because then you appreciate summer more, but right about now I'm thinking that is a poor philosophy and I'd be quite happy just with summer, thank you very much.

Today I had round three at Goldman Sachs, which is not at all what I had anticipated back in October when I thought, what the hell, and went to the wine and dine. The job would be in treasury operations doing project management for a new processing system. Or something. Nobody was able to give me an exact answer about what, exactly, they had in mind for me to do. I suppose that's part of the charm. I'm hoping that Sec'y Ridge calls and says "John, why don't you come work on continuity of government for us." And I'd say, "Sure thing, Tom, happy to help." Sharon, did you get that? This is the way the screenplay of my life is supposed to read.

Mickey has established himself, once again, as The Bomb. Not that there was much competition. But he sends me the Alias. Ah, the Alias. Even Court is now hooked on the Alias.

Yesterday, Prof Cowen econoblogged about prospect theory and traffic lights. Which seems odd, but read the article. Prospect theory is (part of) what I'm studying this year, in case you were wondering what the hell decision science actually is. And for the record, the "Top 10 Dirty Secrets of Classical Music" is pants. Except for the part about the Schoenberg. And I disagree with the bit about Britten being boring. I will concede that his opera's are crap, but I think that Simple Symphony is one of the best works for string orchestra in the repertoire.

Hooray for the fam!

2004-04-11T05:07:00.000-07:00

I make my return to the blogosphere after a wondrous week with the fam. We ate our way through Paris and London, and got ourselves some culture, too. The dog's bollocks, I tell you. Dads has the pictures, and one of these days I'll get the files and share the joy. But it was a great break, and now its time to get down to business. Bah.

There is a word that everyone need incorporate into their vocabulary. This is my contribution to the mother tongue.

fer•gus (fər'-gus) n

1. A third wheel

[From Fergus Boyd, flatmate to Prince William and Kate Middleton, who are apparently dating]

Know it. Use it. Love it.

Happy Easter (or, Funny Bunny) to everybody. Have some chocolate for me.

The Mar and the Drevage

2004-04-01T14:22:00.000-08:00

Mar and the Drevage have graced me with their presence this week. Good times. Had by all. They've been nice enough to let me have a half day every day to do the school thing, which has gotten off to a rather slow start, complete with a little trip into the pit of despair for about half an hour yesterday. Yeah stress management. But really, there's not much that a nap and a nice hot shower can't fix. So now I've seen a lot of art, been to the symphony twice, and actually made progress on some work. Hooray.

The overview:

•Sunday: The Mar arrives. Britain shifts to "summer time." I reset all timepieces except alarm. Arrive at Paddington an hour late. Get breakfast in the canteen. Laugh when Mary's egg explodes all of her. Take the Mar for a walk. Go to see the Philharmonia with the Mar. Meet the Drevs. Have a pint.

•Monday: Breakfast. Eggs behave. Drevs and Mary go to a few museums. I go to the BLPES. Lunch. National Gallery.

•Tuesday: Breakfast. Drevs and Mary go somewhere. I do work. Lunch. British Museum.

•Wednesday: Breakfast. Tate Britain. Lunch. Drevs and Mary go somewhere. I take a nap. Judi Dench. Don Quixote's.

•Thursday: Breakfast. Drevs and Mary go to V&A. I go to school. Window shop. Dinner. Symphony.

Tomorrow they're heading to Greenwich, I'm doing work, and then we're going to some posh restaurant that one of the Mar's friends recommended.

Saturday the Moms, Dad and Molly come over for a visit, and we take off for gay Paree.

Job rejection count: 4
Interview count: 2
Offer count: 0

We have a piper down...

2004-03-28T14:02:00.000-08:00

I think that a good way to judge the enjoyability of a classical or operatic work is the body count. Consider the following:

•Tosca, by Giacomo Puccini. Opera (libretto). Body count = 4, including a dive off the ramparts of Castel San'Angelo.

•Suite from Der Rosenkavalier, by Richard Strauss. Body count = nearly two trumpets, two bones, one bass bone.

We saw Tosca on Wednesday, which was fun. Especially the glass of champers and the dive from the ramparts. Mary and I saw the Philharmonia do the Rosenkavalier, and we damn near lost most of the brass section during the climax. Awesome stuff, especially four rows back. You know its good when you can feel it.

Mary and the Drevs have arrived to observe the Oz in his now native environment. The Drevs plans vacations like the Dads - practically down to the minute. Tomorrow they say they're coming over for breakfast at 8. Ha!

Thursday and Friday I had the opportunity to attend the Complexity Science Symposium held at the LSE to celebrate 20 years of research at the Santa Fe Institute. Very cool stuff, especially the EpiSims project at LANL, which is this enormous agent-based simulation of smallpox infection in an urban environment. Another awesome lecture was on the scale-free nature of many biological phenomena. The lecture proposed a theory that included the conclusion that the all living beings with a closed circulatory system, regardless of size or other major features, will have the same number of heartbeats (in a "natural" lifespan). Wicked.

Aside from that, sleeping. Now for the studying...

Superday

2004-03-22T16:43:00.000-08:00

Not super day, but close enough. Today was my second round (finally) superday at Goldman. Which was a one-day superday for everybody else, but whatever. They had me there at 8am for an hour of interviews, then the eight or so of us who pulled the first time slot sat around at stared at each other until noon. Actually, we made fun of the recruitment process and ate breakfast pastries, but it was still three freaking hours. One of the guys that was in looked and sounded like the stereotypical blue-blooded Establishment, but he was not nearly as obnoxious as I was expecting. Anyway, I bollocksed my first interview, I think, with this rather unpleasant woman who didn't seem satisfied with anything I had to say. My second set was this British guy with unfortunate eyebrows and this American guy with an unfortunate mouth. This thing was enormous, and it closed in the middle before it closed on the ends. It was creepy. I tried to look just over his shoulder rather than right at it. But that went better. I think. Then some psychometric testing, some lunch, some more testing, a tour (my third), a presentation (my fourth - same thing every time), and then the drinks. Complete with a little old man who kept my glass at 3/4 full. He was amazing. You look away from your glass for a second and the next thing you know he's darted it and poured the gentleman some more. Since I had hardly eaten anything, and am a lightweight to begin with, I was a sheet or two gone when a couple of the managers came over to chat. Assuming I didn't make an arse of myself in either the first interview or inadvertently during the reception we get a call at the end of the week. And then the fun begins.

I met one of the editors at Jane's yesterday, Mia, who is a friend of Grazyna's. And is, like most of her friends, very cool. She's been making the circuit on British news programs recently, including NewsNight, which is a very big deal (or so I'm told). So now I know somebody famous.

Also this weekend I discovered that I am five degrees from Kevin Bacon. Now I cannot be beaten at Back To Bacon. Bring it.

Saturday night Dirrrty and QueueW and I went to the Tate Mod to see the last night of the Weather Project. Which was wicked. When you come visit you can see the Turbine Hall, which is this enormous cavern of a room that is the full height and length of the building (more or less). In which was installed a ceiling of mirrors (kinky) and an enormous half-circle of something yellow, behind which were huge monochromatic yellow lamps. So when you walk in, the mirrors completed the circle but make it look like a sun on a hazy day. Complete with foggers to add the haze. The gallery was staying open until the wee hours, since the sun "set" yesterday and they wanted to give folks a last chance to see it. So imagine the floor of the art gallery filled with people laying down, dancing, taking pictures, and just basking in the glow. Dirrrty has the pictures. I will see to it they are posted. See also here.

Tomorrow: the phone arrives. Hello world!

Term = Over. Confidence = Shaken. Eyes = On the prize.

2004-03-20T13:06:00.000-08:00

Friends, family, and random visitors,

Greetings. The term is over! (Those of you who have attended the parish of St. John the Evangelist know the proper response is "Wow!"). Its taken me most of the day to claw myself out of that pit of despair that was my day yesterday following the announcement by Larry that the presentation that Pranav and I spent the better part of a working week putting together was not theoretically sound. Being wrong isn't so much a bad thing, but being wrong in front of you entire program after thinking that you were right was kind of a bummer. But, I'm (almost) over it.

Not much else was accomplished last week. I had a very nice meeting with the aforementioned Larry on Thursday in which he commented he thought I was headed for a first (and then I went and blew it, but whatever) and would be happy to recommend me to his colleagues back in the states. I guess the bar has been reset, now. I have eight weeks to prepare to knock my exams not just out of the park but out of the county. Bring it.

After the Presentation from Hell, the rest of yesterday afternoon, evening, and a fair portion of this morning was spend in the company of my classmates and an impressive quantity of Stella (not the system dynamics software, although I did draw a neat little model of the effect of the EtOH on the bladder). Aside from the obvious biochemical reasons that I had fun, it was nice that after 20 weeks the dozen of us actually enjoy hanging out together.

This morning I recruited for Notre Dame at a college fair the Kaplan folks had. Good times (and, surprisingly, only a minor headache). One of the other alums was supposed to but I guess she got herself a job with one of the big banks (hello indentured servitude) and had to be up in Nottingham (with the sheriff). Her flatmate was a bit late delivering the materials, but since I can bullshit with the best of them all who visited my booth left satisfied. And hoo boy there were some pushy power-parents there. You know, little Jimmy is just far too bright to go anywhere but Harvard, let alone a school in, horror of horrors Indiana. It seems that for many of these people being located in or near Massachusetts seems to be the critical criterion for college choice. But that is bollocks, unlike the Dome, which is the dog's bollocks.

Speaking of the dog's bollocks, the lovely and brilliant Grazyna is preparing another roast dinner, the mere thought of which is making me droll like a dog outside a butcher. Tent. Pole. They say the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Adding to the excitement is Day 3 of the England vs West Indies test, so I'm hoping that Sky Sports 2 is available at Albert Road and that Ollie is there and able to finally explain the game to me.

The Homestretch

2004-03-15T14:14:00.000-08:00

We're in it. Well, sort of. Lectures end on Friday, and then we have about eight weeks to learn everything before the exams. Its not going to be as bad as a qualifying exam for a PhD, but its going to be a pretty comprehensive set. Not excitement.

But I am looking forward to the break. At least from having to be somewhere everyday. So now I can sleep in and sit around in my smalls and try to be an academic.

March is Red Cross Month. I know there are more good causes out there than you could possibly ever support as fully as you would like, but I can make a pretty good case for the Red Cross (I will spare you, though). So if you have some spare change or some spare time (or blood, that works too) consider giving some of it to them.

Maybe one day that will be paying my salary...

Bring on the global warming

2004-03-12T15:02:00.000-08:00

It was cold today. With the wind and the rain, truly, a lovely day. I say bring on the global warming. If you see somebody on the corner spraying aerosols that would be me, and I would be tired of being cold. Next masters will be done somewhere warm. Like southern California.

Sorry there hasn't been much with the bloggage this week. Term ends a week from Friday and I've had a wee bit to do. I'll get back on it soon. I promise.

Today I became the proud owner of my very own copy of Decision synthesis: the principles and practice of decision analysis by Watson and Buede. Or, as I prefer to call them, Steve and Dennis. Why, you ask, does this matter? Because I have obtained the last copy available. Yes. Go ahead. Be jealous.

Now the only titles left on the list of books-that-I-want-but-are-out-of-print are

Decision analysis and behavioral research by von Winterfeldt and Edwards (Detlof and Ward), which is the bible of decision analysis.

Decision theory: an introduction to the mathematics of rationality by Simon French.

If you should happen to stumble on a copy of either one grab it. I will pay a finder's fee.

Yes, I've dorked out almost completely. Next Friday Beyoncé will be out again, and everything will be all good.

The Assessor, The Thruster, The Fieldmarshal, The Mastermind

2004-03-08T14:06:00.000-08:00

Larry and Carlatio had us complete a work preference questionnaire to determine our team management profile for class last week, and we spent Friday morning talking about what sort of work we prefer. Of the myriad Jungian personality batteries, the Myers-Briggs and Margerison-McCann profiles are the biggies. The M-B is a measure of overall personality type, while the M-M focuses on work preferences. For everyone's fun and enjoyment, here is a little bit about me:

On the Myers-Briggs typology, I am an NTj (a "Rational"). I'm weakly introverted (i) which makes me a Mastermind, according to Dr. Keirsey. On my extroverted days I become a Fieldmarshal. Rock on.

On the Magerison-McCann typology, I am an ECAS (an "Assessor/Developer"). The mix of my profile mapped me onto the "Explorer/Promoter" and "Thruster/Organiser" secondary profiles, which led to a whole set of puerile jokes. We are adults, I swear.

While I'm not entirely convinced, most of the profile the computer generated for me is accurate. Statements like "you are easily bored" and "sometimes impatient" and "you will tend to move on if your ideas are ignored or rejected" hit the mark pretty well. The part about not relying on hard data is a bit wide, but whatever. But looking back and thinking about some of the stuff in this profile gives me a pretty clear picture of what went wrong at Press and how (hopefully) I can avoid problems in the future. It is nice, however, to have this affirmation of planning and project management as a good career choice, since that's what I like. I am particularly fond of the Keirsey descriptions.

But enough about my brains. Friday night it was all about my booty. Dirrrty talked Pranav and I into accompanying her to Crush and we ended up having almost too much of a good time. Sean, along with half of the Notre Dame junior class, was there as well. Pranav and I tried our best to do the Trombone Dance, but I'm still a little rusty on my Harlem Shake. My Beyoncé, though, is truly a sight to behold.

Saturday, Sean-dogg and I hit the Cambridge, to see what a real university is like. Which is pretty damn cool. I wouldn't mind living and studying in a building that has had students in it for, oh, 400 years. Pranav and I were happy to see LSE in the same sentence as Oxford and Cambridge in the Economist this week. Always good to know your degree is marketable.

I had my French final, part un, tonight, and I think I kicked its derriere and took its nom. Qui a la papa? C'est moi.

Happy Birfday, Mister Pwesident...

2004-03-04T14:30:00.000-08:00

Actually, its Happy Quarter Century to Donny. Well, it was HQC to Donny on Tuesday, but since I'm a moron it just gets a shout today. Donny has been one of my closest buddies since before the dawn of time. Ladies, I would be pleased to introduce you.

In other news, Pranav lost his orchestral virginity today, and my reign as Deflowerer of Symphonic Virgins continues. He got a pretty good deal, too. First, Barber's Adagio for Strings, and if that doesn't bring tears to your eyes its time to check your pulse. Then the Elgar Violin Concerto, which was cool. Finally, and absolutely stunning performance by the Philharmonia of Brahms' Symphony No. 1 (which also deflowered Grazyna a few weeks ago, to the strings of the LPO). David Zinman conducted, Gil Shaham on the violin. I think I like the Philharmonia more than the LPO. The Philharmonia has the best bass section. And the rest of them aren't too shabby either. The LPO does give me free tickets, though, so I'm not going to make a big stink about it.

This morning started with a lecture on project management that ended up being more like kiddegarden. Now it might just be me, but I have been in school now almost eighteen years. The cute little chalkboard font and the sentences with the small words just don't do much for me. But thankfully Seth is a riot so we just sat at the back and made smartyarse comments until I bailed about forty-five minutes later to finish a paper. It was, as Laura so eloquently assessed, "not zesty." But my Thursday morning is really the only loser this term, since Thursday afternoons I get my behind handed to me on a platter, courtesy of one Rev. Bayes. 18 weeks down, two weeks to go. Insanity.

Tomorrow: Crush. Beyoncé! Beyoncé!

A long. Strange. Trip.

2004-03-03T14:40:00.000-08:00

Although Henri Dutilleux supposedly studied harmony at the Paris Conservatory, my experience with him tonight begs to differ. His cello concerto, Tout un monde lointain... (A whole remote world), really has nothing much to recommend it, except for its use of not one, not two, not three, but four gongs. Now that is some serious orchestration. Its not something I would, say, buy and listen to, except maybe under the influence of powerful hallucinogens. It was trippy. I'll give it that. But ol' Truls (Mørk) did a fine job, as far as I could tell.

So I sat there, tripping, wondering if, in Finland, giving your child a name that includes a "-Pekka", as in the case of Jukka-Pekka Saraste, who conducted the LPO this evening (or Esa-Pekka Salonen, conductor of the Los Angeles Symphony) is the equivalent of, say, Billy Bob or Bobby Joe or something like that. This is what the Dutilleux did. A little googling revealed that is not the case. "Pekka" is the Finnish equivalent of "Peter."

I also sat there trying not to laugh out loud, because for a good fifteen minutes all I could imagine was somebody standing up and just going nuts. This music was strange. But the visions were cool.

Better was the second half, featuring L'Oiseau de Feu (The Firebird. Or, Der Feuervogel). Which is sweet. Go and get yourself a copy. I've decided, in my next life I'm going to learn how to play the bass clarinet. And the contrabassoon. And the gong. Along with the cello, of course. I like these instruments that you feel and as well as hear.

But the highlight of the evening, truly, was after the concert (and the free beer). On my way out of the Festival Hall, I finally discovered, after months of searching, that holy Mecca of Indonesian music - the Gamelan Room. Despite the posters advertising for the "Gamelan Taster Day" I was convinced the Room was just a myth. A fable. But no. Sadly, it was locked, so I cannot report on the glories surely contained within, but you can bet that the next Taster Day will have me sitting on the floor, cross-legged, banging on a pot and chanting in a high voice.

Excitement. Somebody get me a towel.

Beyoncé! Beyoncé!

2004-03-02T15:49:00.000-08:00

This is one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Top 5, easily. This is pant-wetting quality. Almost as good as this. Ha ha. The 'bone is courtesy of Court.

In the news today, Diane got a new job. Congratulations Diane. Emily has gone 30 days without a ciggy. Congratulations Emily. There is water on Mars. Congratulations Mars.

Cheer cheer

2004-02-29T11:44:00.000-08:00

The Irish spanked the Gophers on the diamond moments ago, 19-7, leading the umpire to call the game after 8 and a half innings on account of spankage. This puts my Irish at 6-0, their first perfect start since 1960. It was at the expense of my Gophers, but they took it for the team. Much love. T-ball was in Boca (with Manute), leading the local Domers in the wave before heading (as I type) to consume a half-ton of BBQ pork. Way to be, gang. Way to be. Apparently his employer and current alma, Florida Atlantic, didn't take too kindly to him peddling t-shirts in advance of the game, so he's already been booted off campus twice today (this is before noon, folks - the kid is a machine). That's my boy!

I discovered Dave Barry's blog today, which is the mythic pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Be sure to keep a clean pair of underwear handy.

My Oscar predictions:

Picture: LOTR
Director: Jackson
Actor: Depp
Actress: Charlize or Keisha
Supporting Actor: Del Toro
Supporting Actress: Zellweger
Screenplay (original): Nemo
Screenplay (adapted): LOTR
Cinematography: Seabiscuit
Song: "Triplettes de Belleville"
Animated Feature: Nemo. Or Triplettes.
Foreign: Barbarian Invasions
Documentary: Fog of War

And I'm going to go LOTR in all other categories.

The envelope please...

Halfway. Well, almost.

2004-02-28T15:33:00.000-08:00

We've got three weeks left. I find that very had to comprehend. Three weeks from today I will be done with the taught portion of my masters. It seems like I just started. Oooh boy. Pranav and I have started our quest for excellence, which involved a thrilling Friday evening in the caf, fighting with the lights. See, to save energy the lights at school are connected to motion detectors. So if nobody walks by, they turn off. Which makes studying a bit difficult. We figure if we keep up the intensity as long as we can, we might actually get smart and do well on exams. Not just do well, but blow everybody else away. Not competitive or anything, are we?

And since it will be March on Monday, and I will be officially six months away from unemployment, I figured it high time to start with the job applications. I figure I'm going to have to go through plenty before I get an interview, and even then there'll have to be a few before I actually get an offer. Curse the post-recession economy!

So far I've applied to Mother Mayo, Health & Human Services, and the Red Cross. On the list is OMB and a few other spots with Uncle Sam that I can't discuss, the Advisory Board, Booz Allen Hamilton, RAND, DFI International. Oh, and Press Ganey. For the hell of it. And Goldman. If you know anybody who is looking for somebody who knows his decision science, have them give me a shout. I am open to suggestions, too, so please, don't hold back. Its only a matter of time before I hooch up and go strut around on the street corner.

I don't have anything fun to report. I was supposed to go out to meet the Program tonight with the P-diddy, but he abandoned me. Whatev. I suppose if I broke down and got a mobile I'd be better connected to my social network.

For a little cubicle fun, check out GROW. Its addicting. So far Quentin is the only one who has figured out its secrets.

Today's Russian Lesson

2004-02-24T16:09:00.003-08:00

Soviet Union = союз советских социалистических республик

The loonies are back!

2004-02-24T16:09:00.000-08:00

I guess it had been too long since our last protest, because the staff and (wacko-)activist students are back at it. Today and tomorrow the Association of University Teachers (AUT) has called for strike action, and apparently tomorrow we student members of the National Union of Students (which, apparently, I a member of, but we had to get a card to get a discount photocard for the transit system) are supposed to strike against variable fees, alongside our professors. Its supposedly very "exciting" that we're going to shut down higher education tomorrow. I think I'm going to sleep in. And I'm going to Russian.

What has me a bit annoyed, however, is the AUT plan for "continuing action short of a strike", which calls on members not to do any assessment. So that means no exams. And no marks. And no marks means no degree. And I'll be damned if I don't get my degree. So it may come down to the AUT versus yours truly, and brothers and sisters there is no question who will prevail. They will set exams and mark them or I will feast on their spit-roasted remains.

This all goes back to the top-up fees thing, which the AUT/NUS claims will introduce a "market" in higher education. Which is precisely what it will do. And they think this is just heinous. And I'm not going into the rest of it, because its tiresome and not really my problem anymore. You may take it up with Grash, who suggests a graduate tax scheme which is better than most of the garbage that passes as policy debate. I think a market is a good thing, but I am a cold, heartless bastard.

Anyway. That as exciting as its been here recently. Its going to snow again, apparently, which has got everyone's pants in a bundle. I'm ready for summer. Bring on the global warming.

Oh, Monday morning's strategy lecture was great, Oliver Sparrow guested (he was the first to predict the fall of the Soviet Union whilst working for Shell. Now he runs the Challenge! Forum which provides scenario and strategic planning resources. He has a number of essays on the site, which are fascinating. Be sure to check out their Scenario 2003 section, where they have their 2025 scenario predictions.

And for a neat application of game theory to the real world, read this article about Steve Levitt, who is a professor of economics at the U of Chicago. The paper about the sumo wrestlers can be found here, and the paper about betting on the NFL here. When I grow up I want to do cool stuff like this. (A shout to the Marginal Revolution for the link. They do cool stuff too. Hooray for the dismal science, eh?)

One of Levitt's colleagues at Chicago (in the poli sci department, which has produced such luminaries as Peri Arnold, Sot Barber, Michael Zuckert, John Roos, Josh Kaplan, and Uncle Walt. Five of the eight government professors I had got their doctorate at Chicago. I know how to pick em.) is Daniel Drezner, who has an interesting blog which you politics junkies might enjoy.

Judith, it is my torture chamber

2004-02-22T15:44:00.000-08:00

I've decided that opera is pretty cool. I took in that deliciously evil, macabre tale that is Duke Bluebeard's Castle by Bela Bartok this evening. I was thinking, heading in, that it was going to be painful and boring. But it was not. I will summarize: Judith loves her some Bluebeard. Bluebeard lives in a cold, dark castle with wet walls and seven big doors. Judy wants to open the doors. Don't do it, Judy! Never open the doors! She starts opening doors. Way to listen, honey. What does she find? Pincers and branding irons! Blood-stained walls! Swords and armor! Blood! Oooh, gold and jewels, crowns and robes! Ew, they're blood-stained! Oooh, pretty flowers! Oooh, a white rose! Dripping with (wait for it) blood! Ew, blood-soaked soil! Oooh, mountains and forests and gardens! And blood! A lake of tears! And sorrows! And blood! And three ex-wives! In a closet! And more blood! Buh-bye Judith! And darkness. (And applause).

So not only was there blood and sorrow and eeee-vil (like the fru-its of the dev-il) but a gong. You can't go wrong when there's a gong. And all the singing was in Hungarian. Which sounds scary. But given the blackness and tragic love-gone-terribly-terribly-wrong it was a good fit. With the gong.

It was also cool to see the Minnesota Orchestra, who performed this evening. Good ol' Jorja is still concertmistress and Tony "I'm too sexy for this song" Ross at the head of the cellos. I suppose you could say I "grew up" with the Minnesota Orchestra (from Edo to Eji to, now, Osmo), and it was fun to see the same people that I remember going to see up in Minneapolis. Which is weird and dorky, but so am I so it shouldn't be a surprise.

Aside from that, its been boring. I've starting putting milk and sugar in my tea, which is scandalous and a sign that I've been here far too long. That and I haven't had decent beef (with the notable exception of my one roast dinner - hint, hint) in almost six months. Or onion rings. I did get a shipment of the Moms chocolate chip cookies, which have no rival. I mean, ya'll can go ahead and make me cookies and I'll be happy to put them to the test. But I can't even get my chocolate chip cookies to taste like the Moms and I use the same recipe.

P-diddy and I started revising (which is the British-ism for "studying") for our exams today, so that when May rolls around we'll be ready to kick some ass and take some names. Because I will be smarter when I'm done with this course. Or I will be dead from trying.

I hope, Donny, that this is meeting your expectations. I would hate to disappoint.

Also, a belated shout out to Sean, who enjoys my political bits. Aimee also gets a shout, because she is Sean's supplier, even though she likes Dirrrty's bits better. And Kelly gets a shout, because she has pasties on her balloons. Even though it that all Aimee's doing. So we'll just leave it with much love to my womens in R&D.

My twinkies look stanky on the 'Benz

2004-02-18T14:58:00.000-08:00

Two fire alarms tonight. Two. Practically one per hour. What is so hard about keeping the kitchen doors closed and not burning your toast. Seriously. We'll just overlook my performance at Finsbury Park (which involved dry cured bacon and a kitchen full of greasy smoke).

Dan finally added my to his Friendster, so I am now connected to 123,226 peoples across this wonderful world.

Izzy izzy ahh zizah zizah zah

According to the Urban Dictionary "twinkies" are 22-inch rims (for your tires) (or tyres, over here). I'm not quite sure what Missy means for them to be "stanky on the 'Benz," because the U.D. defines "stanky" as nasty dirty (and before you go check me, be forewarned that the definitions on the U.D. are, well, colorful). But she seems to suggest that her twinkies look good, and if so she has added to the richness of the English language.

Blizzy blizzy blah zi-blah zi-blah-zay

I have, really, nothing else fun to talk about. I got up earlier than planned to catch the last few drops of hot water before the shut down the pipes for the day. I'm not sure why, exactly, we've had to go without water during the day recently, but there are signs up everywhere reminding people to shut off their taps. Now I may be weird, but I tend to shut off the tap whenever I'm not using the water, and if no water comes out when I open one I've had enough experience with taps to know that its highly unlikely (sorry Larry - I know, probabilities cannot be expressed with words) that leaving it open will cause water to flow. Or maybe that's just me channelling my inner Rev Bayes. Anyway, after my short, tepid shower, off to school for a discussion of DRGs and public finance of healthcare by case-mix with the Gwynnie Poo. Then some Russian. Then some budget analysis. Then a fire alarm. And another! And here we are. And now, the sleep.

Me gusta la playa

2004-02-17T04:07:00.000-08:00

Where have I been? I've been in Barrrrrrthelona. Which is awesome. We did not sit in a hotTUB with a HernanDEZ, though. Next time. The Courtenay had the brilliant idea of going, so mad props to her travel planning skillz. We were only there about 48 hours, so I can't report on much. Except for the beach. It was fan-damn-tastic. I had never seen the Mediterranean before. I have now been in the Med. And oh la playa. The sun, the surf, the sand. Heaven. Especially after almost 6 months of cloudy rain. We split our time between the beach and the Mount of Jews (The Courtenay felt it beckoning). The Olympic Park is on Montjuic, and so we hung out up by the stadium and pool and just basked in the glory. And the sun. Have I mentioned the sun? Glorious.

Contrary to expectations, however, we saw only a handful of hot chicks. I had been lead to believe that the place was just swarming with them. Not so. I'll have to go back, though, to increase my sample size.

Today = clouds, rain. Fun. The Grazka is doing system dynamics to my right. I am trying to find gainful employment. I think I'm also going to get a haircut. And I have to go pick up a couple Russian CDs.

Barrrrrrrrrrthelona

2004-02-13T01:45:00.000-08:00

I'm off. To Barthelona. To sit in the hot-TUB with a Her-nan-DEZ, sweating, belly distended, full of smoked meats...

Good ju-ju

2004-02-09T16:09:00.000-08:00

Send good ju-ju and other positive energies to 3220 E Jefferson Blvd, South Bend, IN 46617. We're trying to get me a job. Meditate on that.

The making of burnt offerings or virgin sacrifices may also be useful.

Yorkies!

2004-02-08T16:02:00.000-08:00

I had the best meal I have ever had on this side of the Atlantic tonight. It is easily among the top ten best meals ever. And who is this wunder-chef, and how many Michelin stars does the restaurant have, you ask?

None other than the lovely and culinarily-talented Grazka (or Iron Bess) (or something else that is not suitable to print). I am so full that its taking a while to type, since I have to recruit blood from the party down in my gut.

The menu:

Roast beef
Yorkshire puds (finally. After five bloody months I finally had yorkies)
Carrots in wine (I don't like cooked carrots, but I'd eat these again)
Green beans
Potatoes roasted in goose fat and rosemary
Gravy (which I had a hand in. Not that I claim any credit)

Apple crumble with custard

I suppose my major contribution, aside from stirring the gravy, was being the pack mule at the market yesterday. I see now why she brings me along. Here I thought it was my stunning good looks and charming wit...

It was so good, easy hitting the top of the Miller Satisfaction Stratification Scale, developed by my former colleague, Sweet Ann. Sweet Ann, who knows good food, devised a five-point scale (based off the Likert) to describe levels of satisfaction derived from food. From lowest to highest

Good
Go-od (two syllables)
Delicious
So Delicious
Damn Good (or, properly, Fichu Bon)

One of Grash's housies proposed a sixth level, "f***ing lovely", which is currently being reviewed by the scientific committee. Based on the original construction, tonight's meal would be Fichu Bon (or F-L, truly).

So, major positive points for Iron Bess this weekend, especially when you consider the "American"-style pancakes she made on Saturday. Major positive points.

Also this weekend I learned how to say Union of Soviet Socialist Republics in Russian. Nothing like Red October therapy, people.

And now I need to roll my distended, crapulent self into bed.

Thank Frigga for Friday

2004-02-06T09:47:00.000-08:00

Yes, friends, its Frigga we have to thank for Friday. (If you are a speaker of a Romance language, then you should thank Venus). Regardless of the diety, it couldn't have come a minute sooner.

The quote of the day: "So you paste - or push control-V, which is the paste...." ~Carlatio, explaining how to insert screens from his software into reports. For full effect you need to have the Portuguese accent.

Carlatio = the bomb. He is on a plane to the Rich Port to do some consulting, have a pina colada at the bar in the pool. Must be tough. He said he would take us with him, but that would be mixing "the professional with, you know, the teacher."

Dirrrty (note: three "r"s) said she was tired of politics links, as she is not a political junkie like I am. (Other things do it for her. Like ballroom dancing.) So, being a good post-modernist, I have to recognize that her perspective is valid (hey, I'm okay, you're okay) and today you get links that have nothing to do with U.S. politics. Maths, maybe. But no politics.

First is Complexification, Jared Tarbell's gallery of images generated by algorithms based on chaos theory and the mathematics of dynamical systems. Which is incredibly cool. The set of images is also incredibly cool.

Second is an editorial by Julia Baird (who is not, I don't believe, related to John Lennon) in the Sydney Morning Herald about Botoxgate and the larger cultural phenomenon of cosmetic surgery. Okay, I lie. Maybe a little politics. But mostly aesthetics.

Enjoy your dies Veneris.

**NOTE: Comments back 9.2.04. Solution found. And there was much rejoicing.

Um?

2004-02-05T15:14:00.000-08:00

I had a topic about five minutes ago. But between then and now apparently Brian has decided to hop out of the week, get in the Barcalounger, turn on the telly and crack open a brewskie. I'm having a hard time with thought, in general, at the moment. Geez.

Nothing much exciting happened today. I ditched my 9am because that just wasn't happening this morning. I wrote a paper. I had some falafel. I found the management science book I wanted for 50 quid less than its retail price (and the crowd goes wild). I bought said book. I traded information futures. I got email from my former roommate (and the crowd goes wild). I read about social network maps. I made a phone call. I solved codes on the internet. I am still waiting for a call back (a half hour my ass).

Technically, the falafel happened after the buying of the textbook, but that list is otherwise in roughly chronological order. And I don't feel like going back and changing it. So you'll just have to deal.

In light of a few recent political-arguments-turned-nasty I direct everyone to the Political Theory Daily Review, which has links to more political news, commentary, and thought than anyone would ever want to read, but probably should. So get started, and let nary an uninformed argument escape your lips.

Also interesting and worth a look is the Political State Report, which has news and commentary "from the trenches" on state-level politics. (Disclaimer: while this site is non-partisan, and it does identify the affiliation of its contributing authors, it has a bias towards Democrats. So if you're a political junkie [Diane] you should think about contributing).

Another interesting site for more election madness is the Election Projection, which uses polling data and other, perhaps dubious, factors to calculate a "dynamic" electoral map. I'm sure most of you won't like the way it looks (see disclaimer, following), but it is a useful reminder of how our electoral system works. (Disclaimer: this site is biased towards Bush and the GOP, although the author makes an effort to be as non-partisan as possible.)

That should keep ya'll busy.

Happy Hump Day

2004-02-04T13:53:00.000-08:00

Today it was warm. I spoke some Russian. I fought with MACBETH.

Since I am boring, I direct you to thebigthink (whom I have cited previously for being interesting and a True Believer). I will not duplicate his post, but be sure to check out the link for the Age-Maps. Really wild stuff. I also point you to The Marginal Revolution, which is a blog run by two economists at George Mason (colleagues of the idea markets guy) who also are interesting. Expand your minds. Finally, everyone should go sign up to trade on the Foresight Exchange because its incredibly cool. It took me a little while to get the hang of it, since I am not a finance geek, but I am now all about futures. So sign up, bid for contracts, get all your friends to do it, and we'll start a grassroots movement to aggregate social preference data. And then I'll use it for a doctoral disseration. Fun!

I have included links at right, in the event of future episodes of boringness.

What are "sporks?" (a guest contribution)

2004-02-03T12:09:00.000-08:00

What are "sporks?"
They're not spoons.
They're not forks.
They do not work
as they were planned.
I might as well
just use my hands.

~M-Squared (2004), resident poet laureate.

Word to my peoples at DHS

2004-02-03T05:21:00.000-08:00

A shout out to Ms Kahn's sophomore English class at Dunlap High School. To my homies in the P-town, word.

So Tuesday is my "day off." Only one class. How about that. Today, T. Lo. (the man has ghe-tto boo-tay, people) got his Bayes' on, and I was on time to class after rolling out of bed 30 short minutes before it began. I am invincible!

My walk back to the BS House was exciting. See, I'm attracted to things that have lights and sirens, especially when said lights and sirens are on. Something happened (or is happening) (well, probably "was" now) at St Paul's - by my count there were five engines, one ladder, and one mobile command on the scene. Your London Fire Brigade at work, ladies and gents. There hasn't been anything on the news, so it must not have been a big deal, but I got a thrill from it.

Tyrone pointed me to the Iowa Electronic Markets the other day, which is an electronic real-money political futures market. The concept of information markets (and their analogues) is pretty fascinating (another web-based information market is the Foresight Exchange). According to the IEM, as of 0730 CST, Kerry and Bush were neck and neck, with a contract on their winning the election at about $0.40 (which can be interpreted as a 40% chance). A big day for the Democratic field today, with primaries or caucuses in seven states.

Excitement.

Bliss

2004-02-02T03:16:00.000-08:00

Grash is outside enjoying a post-paper fag (= cigarette), and I am fondly caressing the crisp white packet of joy that I have just produced from the printer. Its still warm!

Final statistics:

Words: 4,302 (5,000 exactly with front and end matter)
Pages: 15 (19 with front and end matter)
Conclusion: pants (= crap) (I learned a lot of British slang this weekend)

But its no matter, because its going up to the office and out of my life, and I will not be sorry to see it go. We'll see what Gwynnie Poo thinks, but aside from the conclusion (pants) the rest of it isn't all that heinous. I'm quite surprised the whole thing isn't a pile of pants, but I'm not going to complain. Until I get my mark, but that's another story for another day.

Back home, 8 to 12 inches of snow. Excitement.

Oh, and if you happened to miss it last night (like I did), be sure to find a picture of Janet's boob. Trash.

Awwww yeah

2004-02-01T19:31:00.000-08:00

Cheese and bacon for me.

Neener neener neener.

Weekend? What weekend?

2004-02-01T19:19:00.000-08:00

[Sigh]

Its Monday again. Already. Its very early on Monday.

Paper status = 3898 words without a conclusion. Prognosis = good.

All that's left now is to see if the Pats can pull it off so Grash has to buy me a cheese and bacon tomorrow...

Save Disney

2004-01-31T16:19:00.000-08:00

Another one bites the dust

2004-01-30T14:29:00.000-08:00

Three weeks down. Holy crap.

Things are falling down on me

2004-01-29T16:06:00.000-08:00

Heavy things I could not see.

Donny asked today where the hell I've been since Monday. Well, Donny, buddy, thanks for asking. I've been under a rock. Suddenly school is hard. I've been nasty busy. Well, let me rephrase. I've had an insane amount to do recently. My productivity on said to-do list has been another issue entirely.

But after Monday it will be all good again. For a few days, at least, which is all I'm asking for.

Fear not, however, faithful friends and visitors. Other things have been falling down on me recently. Snow, to be exact. Yes, oddity of oddities, marvel of marvels, it snowed in central London yesterday. It started as a fine misty rain, followed by some huge wind, and then all of the sudden the heavens open and this nasty wet slush sort of drops from the sky. Seriously. After a few minutes of that we actually got snow - the big, wet, heavy flakes. And people went nuts. I don't they would have gone as crazy during the Armaggedon (which, side note, is the Greek form of the Hebrew 'Har-Madegon' which means, literally, "mount of Megiddo." Another interesting diversion is the history of the valley of Hinnom - 'Ge Hinnom' - just outside Jerusalem. There, my friend Marie demonstrated that it is possible to have a snowball in Hell. But I digress.)

Hysterics aside, it was a pain in the proverbial arse getting to school this morning, because the Southwark Council apparently does not believe in sanding or salting. So where there once was a sidewalk, now there is an ice rink. Which would be fun, except when you're already running late, its 8:15 in the morning, and you really would rather be back in bed and to hell with this whole master's business anyway.

Oy gevald. I haven't finished my homework yet, but I think I'm going to bed. To hell with this.

Oy, Monday

2004-01-26T15:27:00.000-08:00

Mondays are bad, bubelehs. Bad. Feh. I was at school 11 hours, 7 spent in the classroom. It was a struggle to focus my eyes. 3 down, 7 to go...

The BBC today reported on a parrot with a 950-word vocabulary. And it doesn't just repeat what its owner says, but its communicative. Isn't that wild?

Tomorrow: the Commons votes on university top-up fees. The looneys have been out in force.

Mr Blair is probably having a worse week than mine has started out to be. He faces the prospect of a backbench revolt tomorrow, then Lord Hutton reports his potentially damning findings about his role in the events leading up to the suicide of Dr David Kelly. So we could have two (two!) no-confidence votes this week, and maybe even a new Prime Minister. Which would be bad for Tony, so we wish him well.

Also tomorrow, it is forecast to snow. Hot diggity damn. A whole 10cm (4in). Oh, the horror! Apparently the weather is also nasty in DC, since Dani had words for Mother Nature earlier. Stiff upper lip, chaps.

Can you say obsessive?

2004-01-25T14:52:00.000-08:00

Holy OCD crisis this morning. My room had got a bit out of control. Well, not a bit. A lot. It was a mess. And while I'd been able to tolerate it fairly well up until today, this morning it just wasn't happening. So I went through the entire room, and now its immaculate. And I feel so much better. No more skin crawling. The pants I wore today are in a pile on the floor, and that will need to get taken care of before I go to sleep, because just knowing they're there is making me uncomfortable. In fact, I might just do that now.

Ahh. Much better. I'm hoping this obsession with order persists.

I did nothing else exciting, unless reading endless articles on quality-adjusted life years and distributional problems in rationing health care resources really turns you on. In which case you should feel free to write my term paper. 3000-5000 words. QALYs and their problems, in the context of the Oregon healthcare experiment. Due next Monday, so ya'll have until the end of the week. Get busy.

Just the facts

2004-01-24T14:04:00.000-08:00

I discovered a great website today while I was reading the news - FactCheck.org. FactCheck is run by the Annenburg Public Policy Center at the University of Pennsylvania, and its goal is to hold politicians accountable for their public statements. So they pick apart claims, press releases, debates and point out the factual errors. Its great. You get clear, intelligent analysis in a sassy little package. And they rip apart Republicans as well as Democrats.

They're based upon Moynihan's saying "everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but not their own facts," which I agree with wholeheartedly. And now that the election cycle is hitting its full stride, and we're going to be arguing about practically everything, that we get the facts.

Informed debate. What a wonderful concept. Let the games begin!

In other news, I've added an .xml feed (see link, right) for those of you that know how to use it. For the rest of us, once I figure it out I'll let you know.

Happy Birthday, Christina!

2004-01-23T18:04:00.000-08:00

Who should be happy that I avoided all other nicknames, and will attempt to do so for the entire post. Happy birthday, baby.

To celebrate the joyeux anniversaire (29, not 30, as I was under the mistaken impression) we got a curry, then were going to go Latin dancing but were denied, so we ended up at the Walkabout for a few drinks and some dance dance revolution. Good times were had by all, I think, but now I am deaf. Yes. D-e-a-f deaf, because some of my compatriots seemed to want to be in as close proximity to the speakers as possible. Excellente.

And although G-money bailed on the dancing (boo) we did get some Wade and Walker, Texas Ranger. Whom we see every time we go out. Or at least every time I go out. Which is kind of odd, but since they're wild and crazy guys its usually entertaining.

Also today, there wasn't a Goldman interview. Since they never called me back. After calling me back for a second round. Those bastards.

Anyway. Must shower. Then sleep. Peace.

Again with the toast

2004-01-21T15:59:00.000-08:00

That was fire alarm number two, today. A new record!

Seriously, people. Its not that hard...

Ra-Ra-Rasputin!

2004-01-21T15:35:00.000-08:00

Today I made my triumphant return to Russian. John-chik is back, comrades. And in the spirit of the Rodina, I offer this week's Kira-isms:

"Curse your Anglo-Saxon ears!" ~ after repeated failed attempts to distinguish between words ending in "E", "E-kratkoye", and (my favorite) "sixty-nine" (which is this little "b" and a little "l" sort of smushed together, like "bl" but connected). I would try to explain how they, but since I couldn't tell the least bit of difference between any of them it will just have to remain a mystery.

"You know, touch wood." - Kira
"We knock, over on the other side." - Matt
"Ah, because you are so strong. These English. Very weak." - Kira ~ explaining that Russian do this little spitting thing over their shoulder to ward off the bad juju.

Ha ha. She kills me.

And now, for our Cultural Moment, some classic disco from Boney M:

There lived a certain man, in Russia long ago
He was big and strong - in his eyes a flaming glow
Most people look at him with terror and with fear
But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear

He could teach the Bible like a preacher,
full of exctasy and fire
But he also was the kind of teacher
women would desire

Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Lover of the Russian Queen!
There was a cat that really was gone!
Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Russia's greatest love machine!
It was a shame how he carried on!

He ruled the Russian land, and never minded Tzar
But Cossack chuck, he danced really wünderbar
In all affairs of state, he was the man to please
But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze

For the Queen, he was no wheeler-dealer,
though she heard the things he'd done
She believed he was a holy healer,
who would her heal her son.

Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Lover of the Russian Queen!
There was a cat that really was gone!
Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Russia's greatest love machine!
It was a shame how he carried on!

'But when his drinking, and lusting, and his hunger for power became known to more and more people, the demands to do something about this outrageous man became louder and louder.'

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! [do your little dance here]
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

'This man's just got to go,' declared his enemies
But the ladies begged, 'Don't you try to do it, please!'
No doubt this Rasputin had lots of hidden charms
Though he was a brute, they just fell into his arms

Then, one night, some men of higher standing
set a trap, they're not to blame
'Come to visit us,' they kept demanding
and he really came

Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Lover of the Russian Queen!
They put some poison into his wine!
Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Russia's greatest love machine!
He drank it all and said 'I feel fine!'

Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Lover of the Russian Queen!
They didn't quit! They wanted his head!
Ra-Ra-Rasputin! Russia's greatest love machine!
And so they shot him 'til he was dead!

Oh, those Russians...

Please, don't burn your toast

2004-01-21T00:51:00.000-08:00

Or stewed feet or whatever it is that this little group of folks make in the kitchen next to my room. It usually just smells bad. This morning it smelled burned, and so everybody's alarm went off at about 8 this morning. Joy. And then we sat outside for half an hour. Joy. In our PJs. Sexy.

This is not a good way to start a day.

I miss my cello

2004-01-20T14:42:00.000-08:00

I went to the symphony tonight (what a surprise) and it was awesome. Capital A Awesome. Sweaty armpit awesome. Tonight was the Philharmonia Orchestra playing Janáček ("Sinfonietta" - an ode to the newly formed Czechoslovakia, and with 12 trumpets enough brass firepower to plaster you against the back of the hall. Goosebumps) and Dvoràk (Symphony No. 9 "From the New World" - in commemoration of the 400th anniversary of the 'discovery' of the New World, and one of the best works in the symphonic repetoire. Again with the goosebumps). My seat was down at the front, way on the right, so I had a wonderful view of the basses, but that's about it. One of the basses is this dude who can't be much more than a year or two older than I am, if that. And he was having a blast. I was so jealous.

And it made me think about my cello, which I've been doing a lot lately. I miss my cello. And not just since I came to London, but since I basically stopped playing it. And that was better than six years ago, which is just sad. And stupid. And a waste. And I regret it. When I was a senior in high school, I was a decent cellist. Nothing special, but I was playing in a string quartet, a cello quartet, and the Rochester Orchestra (and making a decent bit of money doing it). And it was awesome. My buddies in the quartet and I had a great time, and playing in the orchestra is probably the coolest thing I have ever done. I mean music is great to listen to, and better to hear live, but nothing beats actually playing it. I can't describe the way playing in the symphony makes me feel. But I miss it.

But now I need to pull my hamster out of the dark corner of my mind he's been rooting around in, and get down to business.

Because I want my cello back.

Barcalounger, baby...

2004-01-18T14:20:00.000-08:00

Weekends are a blessing and a curse, man. I mean, its great to having nothing to do (well, that's never really true, I guess) and nowhere to be. But it sucks to have nothing to do and nowhere to be. My hamster was not cooperating today, so my reading about productivity was really not productive at all, which is kind of ironic. Brian, dude, let's get it together. Time is money.

So didn't do much today, obviously. Took Dirrrty to Latin Mass, which today representing a lot of what I really like about the Catholic Church and a lot of what I really don't like about it. Then we took a constitutional around the park, and since the sun was out it was pretty nice. This whole Celcius temperature thing messes me up. So the forecast (ha! there is my problem right there) high was like 4°. I see that, my Brian thinks, "oooh, cold" and so I expect cold. Except 4°C is about 40°F. Brian should be thinking "oooh, not bad." Except he really wasn't thinking much today. Today was a Barcalounger day.

I'm gonna call Pats-Panthers for the Super Bowl, which matches me with Theismann. Minus the drunken come-on to the sideline reporter. But there's still time. But I'm fairly confident I'm going to go at least .500 on this one, especially since there's maybe 8 minutes left in the AFC game and the Colts are getting spanked.

Speaking of TV, (the absence of which is causing some severe withdrawal problems), I know what I want for Christmas. One of these TiVo recorders with built in DVD recorder. How sweet is that? That's right. Sweet.

And speaking of sweet, I discovered a sweet blog today while I was looking for something else entirely. Its thebigthink, and its author is a Mac user, and he posts cool stuff on classical music. I can tell you, just based on that, he is good people.

Problem Solved

2004-01-17T17:43:00.000-08:00

Since I refuse to be held hostage, I had to replace the comment business. Sadly, all the old comments are gone off to comment heaven, but now all new comments can live and play together in peace and harmony, on a comment server where they can determine their own politics, free from oppression.

Plus, now we have those little faces.

Comments?

2004-01-17T17:31:00.000-08:00

Okay, what the hell is the deal with the stupid political advertising on the comment windows? Sure, Mr Comment Hosting Man is entitled to his opinions, but I object to his using the comment area on MY blog to get on his soapbox. At least be up front with people when they sign up, you know. Poor form, Halo Man. Poor form.

If comments disappear, its because I am searching for a non-partisan comment host, that thrives upon the free exchange of thoughts and ideas in a non-judgemental, open environment. Until then, the views represented in both comments and adverts on the comment screens are not those of the blog owner, and visitors may ignore or read comments and adverts according to their own political and social views.

Oy.

Friendster Update

2004-01-17T07:50:00.000-08:00

As of today, I am connected to 91,837 people through my nine friends. That are on Friendster, at least.

This leaves me only 6,375,790,232 to go.

Welcome Back, Comments!

2004-01-17T03:47:00.000-08:00

You may have noticed that comments disappeared a bit ago. Boo. Apparently there was net drama about hosting and bandwidth and blah blah blah and so the nice people that used to provide the comments got the shaft. But now some other nice people have taken up the torch and our comments have returned. Hooray!

I think all the old comments are still there, so the collected wisdom of all who have visited this blog have been retained. Whew.

One down, nine to go

2004-01-16T16:39:00.000-08:00

Yup, that's right. Only nine more weeks of lectures. Hooray. My classes are now finally beginning to resemble what I had imagined grad school would be like. We'll see how long this lasts, but for now I'm a bit overwhelmed by the sudden increase in work. I'm going to have to get my read on in a serious way this term. And then during the revision period. Because my exams are going to be a bear, I think. But its too early to start worrying about that.

So I won't. Instead, I'll go to the symphony. I've started doing some work for the marketing department of the London Philharmonic. So far it hasn't been anything too arduous. Put up a few posters here, hand out a few flyers there, send a few emails. Really stressful stuff. But in exchange, I'm getting the hookup. Not only did I get two comp tickets to the concert tonight (and really good ones, at that), but I got an invite to the rehearsal, which was pretty awesome. I actually enjoyed the rehearsal more than the concert, because I think the performances were better, but also because there was something incredibly cool about watching a world-class orchestra rehearse, wearing their jeans and t-shirts, in a hall empty except for maybe two dozen groupies. This weekend Marin Alsop is leading the orchestra in a concert of Mozart (Piano Concerto #21) and Brahms (Symphony #1, which could have been the soundtrack for Conan the Barbarian. Its cool. You should listen to it.) She's very cool, and she was a lot of fun to watch rehearse the orchestra. I think this was the first time they had played this program under her baton, and these people are just amazing out of the gate, but listening to her explanations of what she wanted ("I really want to preserve the feeling of inevitability" during the opening of the symphony. It sounds you're getting drummed to the gallows. Or something more Conan-esque) was a really cool insight into the music and how a real orchestra does it. As much as I liked played in the Rochester Orchestra (and as much as I want to again), they have a thing or two on us and Jere.

I have no idea how many more of these I'll get in on, but if this is my payoff for some pretty minor marketing work then sign me up for a double shift. Good times. And hells yes for the concert in May with Howard Shore leading the LPO in the music he composed for the Lord of the Rings movies. Tentpole. I'm getting my tickets tomorrow.

Tomorrow Grazka is taking me to Borough Market. Excitement.

He lives in a pineapple under the sea...

2004-01-15T14:26:00.000-08:00

And he's in his own movie. With the BEST trailer I have ever seen.

Commando

2004-01-13T15:30:00.000-08:00

Today was laundry day. And it was overdue. I was this close to having to go to class naked, which, I'm sure, would have been entertaining, will have to wait for another time. I even ironed, today. Craziness. It must have been all the detergent and bleach I was inhaling while I babysat the washer, which wanted to keep stopping every few minutes. But, the dryers were working, and now I have warm, clean clothes in my dresser. And that, friends, is what its all about.

I was just reading the recap of this MoveOn.org shindig last night, and I have to laugh. Julia Stiles comments were particularly entertaining. Bill O'Reilly is going to come to your door with a shotgun? Give me a break. It reminds me of when Audra Hagan was so opposed to Mark and me running for student body executive that she gave this impassioned but incredibly hilarious speech about all the "rage" being expressed by the student body over our involvement. I almost wet my pants. Probably didn't make her happy, but God it was a hoot. People, there's an election in November. Take it to the ballot box, and have an idea or two of your own. Follow Margaret Cho's example. At least she's funny.

I've been in a fog since yesterday. Well, since I got here. I'm never sure exactly what day it is or exactly what time it is, which makes me paranoid and even more obsessive-compulsive. Stupid jetlag.

I have naught to report. I'll try to do better.

Ding! Dong! DONE!

2004-01-12T10:56:00.000-08:00

4pm, baby. Done. Hella year. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done.

Thank sweet Jesus Mary in Heaven above.

Here's how it went down:

3:40p - complete, try to print, no paper
3:41p - oy
3:48p - Help Desk: no paper, kids, lets get our little lily butts in gear
3:50p - paper, printing, begin the dance
3:55p - Brenda's office: take it away. take it! make the bad man go away!
4:01p - The Three Tuns
5:45p - CRUNK

and dude, grocery shooping after the bar? bad idea. bad bad idea. I just looked in my bag. Munchies, much? Hello Pringles. Hee.

So I bailed with Dirrrty, who still has two of three projects to turn in. Seth, Lyle, Katie, and Wilbo (of the 'shire)- strong like bull. Scholarship like I've never seen. And more all-nighters than I pulled in all of college. Queue-Dub, baby, I hope you're still alive.

Done. Hooray!

Hooray!