Month: July 2007

The supervision system when it works

An important part of doing research is, of course, working with your supervisor. I’ve had three or four meetings with Dr F during my research. He talks me through developing ideas, reviews my work quickly, and is encouraging.

Before he went on two weeks leave, I met Dr F to talk about a very rough draft I had emailed him three days before. He was satisfied with my progress but recommended I extend myself by building a formal systems framework around my project.

I felt a bit anxious that I had to do so much work in the last few weeks of my course but I felt like I should try out his suggestion.

I spent a whole day doodling a systems map and staring thoughtfully at the computer. My eyebrows were furrowed for three days. Tonight, finally, I came up with something exciting, even useful! I am so pleased. I think this will make my dissertation much better.

Thank you, supervisor!

Locating barriers to the adoption of energy efficiency in houses by developers

Broccoli lemon mushroom

I invented something yummy today. Well, actually, I took the ‘broccoli lemon chicken’ recipe in my 101 one-pot dishes book and replaced the chicken with mushrooms. I have cooked it with chicken before but did not have any tonight. Anyway, this (plus rice) should feed two small people or one big person.

  • 1 tbsp oil (I used sesame oil, how extravagant)
  • Three mushrooms (I used white ones about 5 cm diameter)
  • 2 garlic cloves, sliced
  • 170 g broccoli, cut into little trees
  • 200ml chicken stock (I used 3/4 of a stock cube)
  • 1/2 tsp cornflower
  • 1/2 tbsp honey
  • Grated zest and juice of 1 small lemon
  • Large handful of roasted cashews (I used unsalted)
  • Salt to taste
  1. Heat the oil in a frying pan or wok, fry garlic quickly, then add broccoli. Stir fry for about two minutes then cover for maybe three minutes.
  2. Add mushrooms, stir fry for a minute, cover for another minute (dash upstairs to check your email).
  3. Mix the stock, cornflour and honey. Pour into pan and stir until thickened (takes longer than you expect).
  4. Add lemon zest, juice and cashew nuts. Stir, then serve straight away.

I really like this recipe book, it’s so student-practical and has nice food porn.

Out of the 101 recipes, I have made (or been inspired by):

  1. Broccoli lemon chicken
  2. Chicken biryani
  3. Turkish lamb pilau
  4. Prawn pilau
  5. Spicy prawn and chorizo rice
  6. Potato and mozzarella tortilla
  7. Curried rice with spinach
  8. Greek salad omlette
  9. Macaroni cheese with mushrooms
  10. Oven egg and chips
  11. Spicy lamb with chickpeas
  12. Hob-to-table moussaka

Twelve out of 101 is almost 12%. That’s pretty good, considering that many people buy recipe books and don’t cook anything out of them!

Gravitas

I got a compliment today. At least, I was pretty sure it was a compliment because they were smiling when they said it. I have ‘gravitas’. When I got home, I looked it up at Dictionary.com.

grav·i·tas (grāv’Ä­-täs’)
n.

  1. Substance; weightiness
  2. A serious or dignified demeanor

Ooooooo… I’m ‘weighty’.

Birthday island

Last week, three of my classmates had their birthdays and booked out Darwin College’s island for a celebration BBQ. That’s right, Darwin College has an island in the River Cam. Here is a picture from that day, with kind permission from two good friends.

On the left is Jen. She’s from the US and had just had a haircut from Letty, who you’ll remember from earlier this month. It’s a beautiful haircut, no? Jen says that she donates her hair to Locks of Love each year. Being away from the US, she will have to post her snippets to them this year.

On the right is Cobi, from Adelaide and therefore my neighbour in a global sense. You might know her writing from here and here. And here. She is a science journalist and has taught me the unnecessariness of the word ‘locate’. Cobi is a charming young lady with job and research offers coming out of her ears.


While partying on Darwin Island, someone pointed out a small bridge going downstream.

‘There’s another island there,’ he said. ‘That’s the illicit sex island.’

Of course, the first thing I wondered was if it was an ‘illicit sex’ island or an illicit ‘sex island’. Then I wondered if there was a difference.

The Scholar Ship

Strange… yet oddly appealing — The Scholar Ship

It sounds like you pay US$20k to spend a semester travelling around on a cruise ship and studying. The universities that ‘steward’ the programme are credible ones (e.g. UC Berkley, Fudan, Cardiff). You can then do an additional semester at Macquarie University to get your Masters in International Communication.

The ship going from this September starts in Athens (Greece), then goes to Lisbon (Portugal), Panama City (Panama), Guayaquil (Ecuador), Auckland (New Zealand), Sydney (Australia), Shanghai (China), then debarks in Hong Kong.

The January voyage is different again.

You know, I wouldn’t mind lecturing at such an institution!

Stranded

Had a meeting in Bristol, 3.5 hours by train from Cambridge. Big rain, fat rivers of water slashing the train windows. Thought I might be late to meeting but got there in time.

Going back, looking forward to seeing Damjan at dinner in Swindon, then to Oxford. When I got to Bristol Parkway station, a hundred lost looking souls and 1 PM trains still on the platform, three hours late.

‘What’s happening?’ ‘We’ll tell you when we know.’ ‘What’s happening?’ ‘We’ll tell you when we know.’ ‘What’s happening? Can I get to Cardiff? London? Didcot? Oxford? Bath?’ ‘No.’

Trains down, roads flooded. No routes to Swindon, to Oxford, to London, to Cambridge.

‘There will be one train. It will go to Bristol Temple Meads.’

What is Bristol Temple Meads? Called Anna, who lived in Bristol once.

‘What do I do?’

‘Go to Temple Meads, Joan. It’s the main station in town.’

Other people with luggage and trolley bags were sent on a coach back to Wales. I took the train to Temple Meads. Five minute train ride took almost half an hour. Speed restrictions? Sections flooded?

Called Damjan. He was turning back. Got partway to Swindon but now had to go back to Oxford. I almost cried. No way between here and there. Disappointment. Will be staying here tonight.

Called classmate Joe, Anna’s boyfriend, Bristolian. He was driving from Cambridge to Bristol. Arranged for me to stay at his parents’ house. Relieved.

Joe to arrive 8 PM but came in at 11 PM. Had to cross country to get around the floods.

Woke early next day in someone else’s home. Good kind people. Sent me to train station. Was lucky — one line out of Bristol and it was the one I needed. Got on train. Carriage soon crowded with refugees, yesterday’s backlog.

Train left Bristol, arrived in Bath. Others squeezed on. After that, no one could get on train. Bewildered passengers left on the platforms.

Sardines. ‘Why did I pay for my ticket today?’ someone shouted through the carriage. ‘I’d like to see a ticket inspector go through here!’

Laughter.

Everyone talking to each other, telling their stories. Thousands of cars abandoned on M4 highway. ‘M4 landslide causes traffic chaos.’ One person stuck on train for six hours. Others wading through four feet of water. People naked up telegraph poles.

‘Last night, my 85 year old grandfather flew into Birmingham airport. My wife, my brother and I were at three different parts of the country and none of us could get to the airport to pick him up.’

Harry Potter fans canoeing to the book launch?

Maybe this havoc is Voldemort’s work.

Took two hours for train to go from Bristol to Oxford. Train speed limited, dodgy track. Authorities must have spent the night pumping water. Watched flooded fields go by on both sides of track. Electricity poles in lakes. Tall trees now mangroves.

Saw flooded roads, dozens of cars abandoned and empty on roadsides.

Finally, to Oxford and something like home. Tired, hungry, sick with cold. Went home to Cambridge via London. Sleep.

Frightened and inspired

Emerging from solitary weeks of writing, today I went to the first of three days of our dissertation conference. The thirty-six members of the class are presenting their research to date. Presentations are followed by questions.

I am frightened and inspired at the same time. I’m frightened because of the impressive amount of rigour in other people’s study design. I feel like a fraud in comparison. Somehow, I must persuade others that my results are valid and reliable.

I am also inspired by how interesting and useful people’s research is. For eight hours today, my brain was filled with non-Joan-shaped thoughts and that gave me ideas for my own work. I went home, eager to tweak my presentation, looking forward to my turn to present on Wednesday.

Before I started this course, I knew two things about research: that it often a lonely occupation, and that it is a hard slog. I was warned about this and I have experienced it to be true. I also knew that good research practice includes collaborating with people and sharing ideas to ward off loneliness and stagnation, and that the best way to slog through research is to work nine to five, even in the most uninspired times.

Despite forewarning, I did not follow these two guides and it has been to my detriment. Because I didn’t have the willpower to hack through the lows, I feel the pressure now. Because I am under pressure, I feel like I can’t spend the time to talk to people and socialise. Because I don’t talk to people and socialise, I am unproductive and low.

Maybe this conference, enforced interaction, is what I need to break the cycle.

Joan-shaped thoughts

My thoughts fit into my head comfortably. I’ve had nothing but Joan thoughts for days, maybe weeks. They’re all the same shape, they sound the same, they use the same words. They’re familiar, they don’t challenge me and I’m sick of them the way that one is sick of eating the same food every day.

I had a great day today. I wrote 2,500 words. I went for a walk at the cemetery. While I was there, I realised that the reason I felt so uninspired was because my brain is full of Joan-shaped thoughts, which I forced myself to pursue to wretchedness.

Someone once described to me what it is like when he meditates. It isn’t that his mind is empty. He lets his thoughts enter as usual. The difference is that he watches them drift by without following them. There is no need to follow thoughts. They can come in and leave as they want.

Di told me about a woman who would spill a bowl of rice grains on the floor. She then uses a pair of chopsticks to pick up the grains one at a time. When the bowl was full again, she pours the rice out and starts again.

In the corner of the cemetery, there is a little stone house. I thought a priest lived there because it looked like a miniature church. The house was open today and I went in. It turns out that it is the home and studio of an artist. While I was there, about ten other people came in to look at her prints and sculptures. The patterns in her work helped me not follow my thoughts.

It was nice to get a rest from thinking.

Treading water

I feel like I’m treading water. I have six weeks to get to the end of the pool but I feel like I’m not progressing. I am sick of it. So uninspired.

I have to present my findings on Wednesday. It’s a twenty minute presentation. I’m sick of thinking about this topic. I want to think about something different. I don’t want to read my own writing anymore.

AAAARGH. BUT I HAVE TO. I HAVE TO KEEP GOING.

Waaaaah….