Reasons to be cheerful: 1 2 3, er, and 4

Being in the new house now, I have 3 new housemates. And in the two weeks or so since moving in, I think I've had more interesting conversations with each of my new housemates than I did with any of my old housemates in a whole term. So, reasons to be cheerful:

1. Tony is the quietest of the people here. He's also the responsible one, (not that the rest of us are irresponsible) his name is on the phonebill and he was the contact on the leaflet for coming to see the house. He's also the oldest of us. Tony is doing a Phd. in linguistics and he's taught modern languages in schools in the past and I think he does it part-time now to keep a bit of money coming in.
2. Ramley is from Malaysia and he's doing a Phd. in Electrical Engineering (I think) Ramley's a Muslim and it's really interesting to learn about his faith - such things as the fact that he has to keep his crockery seperate because he can't eat off a plate which has had pork on it, I would never have thought of that. I'd describe him as quite devout in a down-to-earth way, the way it should be I think. The only thing I don't like about him is that he's a Manchester United fan. I tried to persaude him that we should have a sort of Haj and throw stones at the devil on the MU badge on his hat but he wasn't having it.
3. I first met Jo at a Post-grad and Mature Students Association quiz at the start of term in September. He's doing a Phd in Physics, and what struck me most during the quiz was how much he knew apart from physics. Not at all like the science student stereotype. He was far and away the best in our team. It was a pleasant surprise when I came to look around the house and he opened the door. He reminds me a bit of Dr McKendrick, with the laid back yet cynical approach to things, and penetrating insight. Jo and I have some very interesting and sometimes surreal conversations about politics, films, comedy and anything else that comes into view. I've started to repeat myself a bit now, though, so he might get fed up of me soon. Last week we did The Times cryptic crossword one night followed the next night by the Guardian. Jo did about 75% of the work but I was glad to get some of them. He reckoned it would have taken twice as long on his own.
4. Completely unrelated to the house, I helped out at the English Club again last week. I had just two students in my group, one Chinese and one Korean. I think it went really well, and it reminded me why I wanted to teach English, especialy with Asian students. We had a really good time.

[Is that better Miss Leahy?]

Everything is Wonderful!

So, after the drama of being threatened in Subway, a computer virus, a flat tyre, and having an egg thrown at me while I was trying to fix it, I had the little matter of an essay to finish between Friday evening and Monday morning - if finish is an appropriate word when I had less than 10% of it done.

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As Monday morning was dawning, I was pretty sure I wasn't going to make the deadline as I had only about 1000 of the 4000 words required. I sat on my bed and contemplated my fate. I felt pretty stupid to have got myself into the situation and thought I'd probably taken on too much. The student handbook didn't give much comfort, it made it sound almost impossible to get extensions and descirbed strict penalties for late submissions. I considered just packing it all in and looking for a job instead. But after the experience of coming back from my failed venture in Poland with my tail between my legs, I wasn't keen to do that. More than that, I remembered that I'd already paid my tuition fees for the first year and I didn't want to let that go to waste.

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I decided that I'd go and grovel with my tutor and ask if I could extent the essay to 8000 words as the module has two parts and I'll need to write another essay for it this term. This seemed especially attractive as I'd covered a very small amount of material in my first 1000 words. So I went into the theology department and found my tutor. The first thing he said was 'thanks for the crossword' (I'd emailed my theological crossword to some of the staff as a sort of Christmas present) this seemed like a good sign, I could use it for bargaining. So I told him that I had no escuse because I hadn't got anything done over Christmas but I'd moved into a new place, and about the computer virus, and suggested that I could make it longer to combine the two halves of the module. He said he wouldn't recommend that but an extension would be a better option. I was amazed that he'd offer an extension and I wasn't about to refuse it. After the events of the previous few days, I'd lost my faith in human nature.

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So, anyway, I just about got it done for this Monday and handed it in. I'm not especially proud of it as an essay, even with the extension, it was rushed at the end. I think I wrote about 1800 words in 12 hours. And in the last 1000 the footnotes almost completely dried up as I was forced to rely on my own analysis in the hurry to get it done. But at least it's done.

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II feel quite ashamed of myself, I've never missed a deadline before, though I've been pretty close. Now I have three more essays to get done for the end of April. Better go now.

Another bad day

So, I got the virus sorted out, or at least I think I did.
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It was last Friday evening and I thought I'd get myself something to eat before getting into my essay. There aren't many take-aways nearby the new house so I thought I'd take the car, it would only take ten minutes. And I could make myself something to eat later when all the take-aways would be closed.
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As I drove, I was quite certain that the handbrake was stuck on; the car wasn't free-wheeling at all. Just to make sure, I pulled up the brake-lever and, indeed, it made no difference. About halfway there I noticed it began to vibrate if I went over about 20 mph and I was worried about the brakes getting too hot. So, I pulled over got out and had a look around. I couldn't see anyhing glowing red in the back wheels so it seemed it wasn't too bad. While I was at it I was able confirm my suspicion that one of my headlights was out. So I got back in and went carefully to my destination, an area where there are 5 Indian restaurants and a chipshop.
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As I walked around comparing prices, I looked across the road at the car and I could see that the driver's side front tyre was flat. That's either the fourth or fifth time I've had a flat tyre since September! My only comfort is that at least it was a different tyre this time. Anyway, I was only about two miles from home, so I thought I'd try to drive carefully and get it there.
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I was about halfway back when it got unbearable so I pulled up off the road, got the spare out and jacked the relevant corner of the car up. I got the key out to remove the cap and gain access to the wheelstuds. The key itself isn't the best designed, it doesn't give much leverage or purchase and the thin metal digs into the one's hands most uncomfortably. It's also bent out of shape from previous use. As I stood there, stooped over the front wheel, straining with it, a very strange thing happened. A car went past and I heard a splat, I also noticed that my fingers had become kind of wet and sticky. It took me about five seconds to realise that some absolute git in the car driving past had seen me in my trouble and thrown an egg at me. It was quite a good shot because it hit the wheel and splatted on my trousers and hands, probably my coat too.
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Needless to say, I felt demoralised, so I ended up calling the RAC for a flat tyre - the second time since September. The RAC man reached me fairly quickly and changed it for me. I felt vindicated, however, when the RAC man needed a hammer and some molegrips to turn the key.
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So what can be said about human nature? What kind of swine throws an egg at someone who has broken down?
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My next post will be more upbeat, I promise

One Bad Day

I think it was last Thursday (I'm a bit confused about days at the moment) when I went to get a book from the Library. As I was in Selly Oak, near the university, I thought I might as well give Subway a try as I hadn't been there at all since starting here in September. (I'll have to give a report on all the fast food establishments on Bristol Rd. one of these days, there are probably more per metre than even Dunmurry)

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Anyway, I was sat there eating my sandwich thingy, minding my own business, when four youngish lads came in, I'd say about 14-15yrs, none of them was very big, each one was a bit smaller than me probably. The strange thing was that they didn't order any food they just sat on two tables and tried to chat-up one of the girls in the queue. When the girl left they stayed there and didn't really do anything, they didn't even speak much. When it seemed like about 30 seconds had passed without any of them speaking I glanced over. None of them was doing anything but it seemed that my glance gave them the impetus to speak again.

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Above the head of one of them was a poster that caught my attention, I think it read 'Charity Christmas Choro'. The fact that it was handwritten made me do a double, or triple, take because I didn't recognise the word 'choro'. 'Chord' might have made sense, in as much as it's a real word, and a capital 'd' might look like a capital 'o' but it doesn't make any real sense. Anyway, I guess 'choro' must be a 'street' way of saying 'choir' or 'choral'. Obviously, my grammatical curiosity is a weakness.

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So, two of the lads left, the one with the poster above his head and the other one at his table. And as he stood he pointed at me and said something like, 'If you look at me again, I'll break/hit/punch your nose'. I just looked at him incredulously and said 'what?', with an incredulous tone. Of course, facial expressions and vocal tones are not easy for me so I don't know how successful I was in conveying the emotion.

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I suspect it was convenient for him to say it as he left, as it meant I couldn't very easily call his bluff without abandoning my sandwich and following him through the door. It was convenient for me too because I didn't want to be sat there scared to look in his direction.

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I found it vaguely amusing but as I made my way home I found a latent anger stirring up, possibly a hangover from when my car was stolen, and stolen again. I might have thought he was the same kind of person who would have done such a thing, and projected my anger onto him. I imagined what might have happened if things had gone wrong. I pictured myself grabbing him by the throat, pinning him to the wall and yelling, 'you're scum, do you know that?' Part of me would like to do that, it's not really very Christian is it? Anyway, even if I were able to do that, the fact that he had three frineds with him suggests that if things got violent I'd be the one waking up in a pool of blood, so I'm glad things didn't go that way. And I would almost certainly be done for ABH if I had been inspired by the many kung-fu films I've seen in the last twelve months.

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When I got home I thought I would get some work done for my essay, only to find my computer telling me I'd got a virus. (I mean, my computer was telling me that it had got a virus, not me technically) I hadn't got a virus killer on my machine, so I had to find a free one to download while random pop-ups appeared with alarming frequency. Most of the virus killers that are free to download only scan your system and tell you what viruses you have, if you want to go a step further and actually remove the viruses, you have to pay them. Anyway, it was the next day before I found one one a 30 day free trial, so I did eventually remove the numerous infections - each scanner found a different number - and finally got myself ready to work again but I'd lost about a day's worth of study and I was already behind.

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Still, I'll tell you about Friday evening later.

Procrastinatory Nonsense

Well, the new year has come, it's amazing how time keeps going without stopping, I almost thought/hoped it wouldn't happen. (That's not to say 2005 was the best year of my life)
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I came back to Birmingham yesterday and moved into my new room. It's about twice the size of my old room. It has good storage and workspace facilities - I'm even keeping my bike in here.

It's still difficult to actually knuckle down to work, though. I just don't quite know how to go about my current essay. I have a bit of a plan, and a fairly good idea of what I think I might say but haven't managed to put it into words yet. I'm just lazy I guess. Now I have 4000 words to do for Monday. I don't think I've ever left myself so much to do in so short a time. And I'm doubting my abaility to do it at all right now. The fact that it's the first essay of my course doesn't help much. And the fact that they have a different referencing system here to what I'm used to slows me down as well. Having said that, I did write about 1500 words of an essay in one day on my degree, but I'd already got a solid introduction to build on with that one.

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I wish I could just write 4000 words about a penguine called Gary, or a woodlouse called Harry, or a lemur called Malcome, or something stupid like that.
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It was near impossible to get any work done at home. There were distractions such as TV and playing Scrabble with my dad. And then there was other work to be done, such as cleaning sinks and helping my dad gather wood and mend fences. When we finished mending the fence, my dad drove the tractor out of the field and the cattle decided to follow him and made a new hole in the hedge which we had to repair after rounding them up again.

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I wanted to protest about being roped into such activities, citing my essay which required much work, but up to that point I hadn't really done any work on it and I thought my dad would think I was just making excuses. It's difficult to explain that I need to be in the right frame of mind for study. I couldn't do study on a 9-5 basis, or a few hours here and a few hours there. It takes a full emersion experience for me to get into it. I did take one day for study at home, which was spent mainly reading. When my dad came in he asked me if the essay was finished. He doesn't seem to know what it's like to go through the torture of trying to produce an academic essay.

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Spending more than a few days with the parents is difficult at any time. It seems that they're becoming more and more like Frank and Estelle Costanza (from Seinfeld). And no one can speak to you like your parents can. No one else will pay you so little respect as a human being. Usually my mum will say something like 'seeing as you're not doing anything else...' which seems, when she says it, to infer, 'seeing as you have a meaningless existence...' And then they have ideas about what is a 'proper time' at which to get up and a 'proper time' to go to bed. It seems morally irrelevant to me, I work better at antisocial times. But the most distressing thing is that after nearly 40 years of marriage they still don't understand each other. If anything, they just make each other miserable. I guess I wish my mum could be a bit less uptight and my dad could be a bit more sensitive.

Anyway, I don't think there's much I can do about that, so I've left them alone again. Maybe they communicate better when I'm not around. The fly was still there on the wall when I left. I wonder if there's a world record for having a dead fly undisturbed on one's bedroom wall. I reckon I'm up to about two months now.

Speaking of world records, I have a very long hair growing out of my right nipple, I'd say about 10cm. I think it was longer about 18 months ago but I broke it. I guess it would be more impressive if I were female (impressive in terms of breaking records, not in any way that any vaguely normal woman would be proud). I'll leave you with that lovely thought.