Something happened, which has never happened before.
I put my duvet cover into the laundry. When I pulled it out of the machine, it was strangely heavy. During the laundry cycle, somehow, a pair of jeans, a shirt, a towel and a pair of tracksuit bottoms had crawled into the little gap where I would normally stuff my single bed duvet/doona.
What were they hiding from?
Everyone’s doing it — Simpsonizing themselves.
(I’m on my lunch break so don’t make fun of me for lifting my internet lockdown.)
Real Joan compared with Joan Simpson. Believe it or not, I made Joan Simpson without looking at this photo. I only searched for a similar photo afterward. It’s an old photo. I had my hair cut and de-fringed last month so Joan Simpson’s hairstyle is more accurate.
One month to go! One month to go!
I did something useful today. I went into ‘internet lockdown’, yes sireee… I sat in my room with its super fast internet connection and its handy dandy internet cable plug thing and I UNPLUGGED MYSELF! I didn’t check my email for six hours! ooooooooooooo….. And I’m gonna do it again tomorrow!
I learned something interesting about flights and market segmentation yesterday. I talked to a travel agent about flight prices. I knew that somehow if you booked early enough, you got cheaper tickets. How does that work? Does the airline go, ‘Okay, a month before take-off, all the prices go up! Suckers, those people who don’t book early!’
In fact, the rules that govern the system are different, even if they appear to have the same effect. What the airline does is release all its seats at different prices. I don’t mean that seat B2 is more expensive than AK5, no. What they do is, ‘Okay, a hundred seats will be on sale for £400, a hundred will go for £450, another hundred for £600…’
So, yes, your chance of getting a cheap flight does improve if you get in early but the availability of the cheap fare also depends on demand. I mean, how many people would be the same seat for £450 if they can get it for £400?
So the question remains: Why do airlines do this? Is it to capture the poor-but-organised segment of the market (like concession fares for movies)? Is it to encourage people to book early? Is it to entice travellers if the market demand is low? Is it to make money from desperate or disorganised people who book two weeks before the flight?
It is an interesting and clever business model…
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!
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.
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):
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!
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 (grÄv’Ä-täs’)
n.
Ooooooo… I’m ‘weighty’.
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.
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!
I love it!
Today I met Joaniesaurus
She breakdanced before us
Then crashed into the fridge
She now tries to ignorus…
Wigiwigiwigi…!
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.