A Strange Phenomenon

This has never happened to me before. My room light won't turn off. I've had lights that won't turn on, in power cuts or if the bulb's gone, but never one that wouldn't turn off. I've put the switch in both positions many times, but nothing. At the moment I've left it in the state I'm confident is 'off' (the same position as the switch for the bathroom light, which did have the decency to turn off); I'm not sure if that's a bad idea as the off position is obviously broken so maybe using it is not good? or whether it's the right thing to do as then it may correct itself at some point whereas if I leave it in the on position it will have to use energy all night.

At least I don't have problems sleeping with lights on. I'm not going to bother some poor on-duty staff member at 3am!

Fire Alarm Hell

Yesterday evening we had a few fire alarms, continuing the general trend that's been apparent since we got here. Then we had 24 hours without fire alarms. I started thinking this was a step forward. Maybe people were starting to remember about keeping the bathroom door closed when having a shower and turning on the extractor fan when cooking. Maybe the excessive number of fire alarms of our first few days was going to settle down to a general average of one a week or so.

Then we had a fire alarm this evening. Followed ten minutes later by another fire alarm. Which stopped again before I'd got out of my bedroom door. But then started again. And stopped again... This continued something like ten or fifteen times, for something like ten minutes. Clearly it was broken, and there was not only no real fire, but probably not even anybody setting it off with steam or cigarette smoke or anything. But right from the first alarm on the first day, I've never believed there was a real fire. I never will believe there is. That doesn't mean I won't evacuate. Not only am I a good little girl who follows all the rules, but I learnt two lessons from the story of the Boy Who Cried Wolf: the obvious one of not crying wolf, but also that it's safest to believe people who do cry wolf, even when there is very unlikely to be an actual wolf, because if it happens enough times, those probabilities get multiplied up*, and it becomes fairly likely that there will be a wolf on one of the occasions. So every time the alarm was sounding I would move towards the exit until it stopped, when I would head back for my room. But the alarms must have been slightly longer than the silences, because I never got back to my room, and each time I ended up a little further away. Through the flat door and back in again, out again and down the stairs, up and down, up and down. Somehow, it didn't occur to me untill someone I met on the stairs suggested it that, although I had to go towards the exit when the alarm was on, I didn't have to go back again when it was off, and it would make more sense just to go outside** and wait it out. Which I did, and had a brief conversation with a girl from Egypt into the bargain, so it wasn't entirely wasted. But it was a relief when there was a long enough silence to suggest it had been fixed. So far, there hasn't been another one... but I'm not going to fall for it again. I know there'll be one along soon!

*Technical note added to assuage my mathematical conscience: the probabilities don't really get multiplied up. In any case, that would actually make them smaller^. The probability that there isn't a wolf gets multiplied by itself the number of times that wolf is cried^^, which gives a smaller value for the probability that there is never a wolf in all those times the greater the number of times wolf is cried, and thus a larger value for the probability that there is a wolf at least one of the times. But it's easier to write that they get multiplied up if you don't want to go into all this detail, and I suppose it's metaphorically true

**Recently, I've stopped going all the way out to the front. I think they told us we had to do that on the very first fire alarm- I suppose it makes sense as if you wait in the court until the blaze is a lot bigger and has taken over A block as well, there's no way of getting out of the hall without going through the flames. But most people from my block and the others round the courtyard (most of those people who bother coming down at all for the alarms, that is) just stay in the courtyard, and no staff appear to have told them not to, so I'm going to continue unless they do specifically tell us otherwise. After all, if it's a real fire, we'd probably realise before the flames reached A block (assuming they hadn't started there)- if they got that far at all, since the whole thing would probably be put out before that point.

^Since they're less than 1

^^That is, P(there is really a wolf at least once)= 1-P(there is never a wolf)
=1-(P(there isn't a wolf on a specific occasion)^n), where ^ means 'to the power of' and n is the number of times wolf is cried

A certain amount of apprehension

We had the departmental induction today. This consisted of the lecturer in charge of the MSc statistics programme, who will also be the personal tutor for each of us, talking a bit about the structure of the programme, what to do if we had problems, deadlines for choosing courses and so on, the Graduate Administrator for the department introducing himself, various lecturers introducing their courses to help us to decide which we wanted to do, a talk from a man from the library (very strange looking- I think it was his haircut which came from the pudding bowl school of styling, though he was also very very thin), and from a man from the careers service, and from a man from the language centre.

The most helpfull thing I learnt in all this was that in fact that project that I thought was compulsory is actually optional- you only do it if you want to convert to the Research programme. Not to say I necessarily won't do that, but it's nice to know I won't have to do it if I can't think of anything good or just don't want to do it- it was scaring me rather.

Sadly, the course introductions were in one way not so helpfull, though from another point of view they were very helpfull indeed. What I mean is that beforehand I just about knew what I wanted to do and afterwards I was thrown into complete indecision again. In the hope that it might clarify things by showing how hard I personally was likely to find the various options, I went to the library* after lunch to look at the set books for each course. They were all extremely frightening, and it was hard to say which were worst. But in the end I decided that Developments in Statistical Methods seemed to use harder maths than Non-Linear Dynamics and the Analysis of Real Time Series**- even though that 'Non-linear' in the name is a danger signal for me as it says 'hard maths that I can't do'-, and didn't sound as interesting from the presentation, so the current plan is to swap Developments for Non-Linear Dynamics, do the course which was my second choice after one whose timetable clashed with another course, and otherwise keep everything the same.

So at least I know what I'm doing. But I can't quite blot out the vision of those textbooks... Aaaaaaaarrrrrgh!

*Which I may describe more fully later, but I would just like to say here that I agree with the anonymous author of 'Candid Campus', a 'seriously irreverent look' at LSE in the most recent edition of the Beaver, LSE's student newspaper: 'Designed by Big Norm Foster as a paean to wasted space, the books are relegated to information vestibules in the corners of the gigantic emptiness, across which the screams of the failing students echo and bounce.' Its most dominant feature is a round free-standing staircase which must be ten metres in diameter, going all the way up from the lower ground floor. Where, beside the computers, so many books are squeezed into a small space that instead of having fixed bookshelves with spaces between, they've had to have sliding ones that can be moved by cranking a wheel on the side- there is only one space and you have to move all of the ones in front of the shelf you want so that the space comes between that one and its neighbour. Not that I've had to use them myself, but I've seen that kind of system before on TV, at a research library which hadn't wasted its space on giant staircases and just had so many books it really needed it. Of course, whenever the library is mentioned in the official LSE promotional material, they go on about how wonderfull the redesign was and how stunning it is now, casually mentioning Sir Norman Foster...

**It was also taught by the only one of the lecturers giving presentations whom I could barely understand (strong accent)- I was only getting half of every other sentence. Not perhaps a reason in itself not to take a course- after all, he'll be writing on the board, and there'll be a set text- but maybe one more factor to influence the decision

General rules and good advice for life, no. 1

Always make sure you have enough change on you before approaching a Big Issue seller. I forgot this today, and it cost me £1.90 and about fifteen minutes of my time- not a major loss, it is true, but still, one better avoided.

I was just coming back from buying a roll from Tesco's to have for my supper with some leftover ratatouille from the other night, and had turned down my road, when I saw a girl walking towards me with several Big Issues in a plastic folder. Now, I'd already regretted not being able to buy a Big Issue earlier in the afternoon, when I passed a seller on my bike and it wasn't really practical to stop. In fact, I'd been vaguely looking out for one since Monday, when I'd run into (and turned down) hundreds and hundreds of them in the area round Covent Garden, when I was on my way to meet Cat, whilst we were walking round together, and after she'd gone- I explained to myself that it would be better to wait and buy a copy another day, as with it coming out on Monday, that's when everyone would be getting theirs, and the vendors would be more in need of custom later on in the week*. So, before I even thought about it, when I saw this girl, I called out to her 'Can I buy one, please?' Then I thought 'Hang on, I don't think I've actually got any change. Whoops'. I told her I'd just check whether I had enough on me, and had a look- but as I thought, there was only about 70p in my purse, plus a £10 note, which she didn't have change for. But she said there was a cafe on the corner and I could get change there. Though I was metres from my hall, where I could have had a cup of tea much cheaper, I couldn't really say no, so we went to the cafe. As we were about to go in, I asked her if I could get her a cup of tea or something- not just out of politeness, but I would have actually liked to have a cup of tea and a chat with her as she seemed really nice. But she said she'd already had some coffee (though I think she just didn't want to accept what she probably saw as charity). I asked for a cup of tea at the counter, with the girl standing next to me, but the woman on the till kept checking I didn't want anything else and looking at the girl- I'm not quite sure whether she thought I was monumentally selfish for not only not buying the girl anything, but not even appearing to be aware that she might want something- since the woman didn't know I'd already offered, or whether she was just trying to imply that if the girl wasn't a customer she shouldn't be in there, particularly not with her Big Issues. Anyway, I got my change, bought a copy, and settled down with my £1.90 mug of tea for fifteen minutes. Which was pleasant enough, but perhaps a luxury I wouldn't otherwise have indulged in just at that point, being on a budget and having things to do and all. Though I expect a cup of tea in a cafe is something I'll run to every now and again when I'm far enough away from halls not to be able to just get back and make myself a cup.

*Actually, the real reason was probably that I was still recovering from being buttonholed by an Iranian, who wasn't very happy with my £2 donation^, and wanted me, since I didn't have any more on me (actually I had a note or two but the student budget only allows for so much in the way of charitable donations, so I claimed to only have that), and didn't have my cheque book with me, to give my credit card details so I could donate more that way. Not a good idea. The cause was certainly a worthy one, being to try and stop extradition from Iraq of Iranians who would then be executed, and for things that would not even be crimes in many countries. But I can still only afford so much. Anyway, he took me on quite a guilt trip, which led me to be indisposed towards anything even vaguely in the nature of charity or people accosting one in the street for the rest of the day

^which I was only allowed to make ten minutes or so into the spiel, although I was intending to give that amount right from the beginning, and would have preferred to do so then as I was late for meeting Cat- given that what he was saying turned out to make no difference to my contribution, it didn't really serve any purpose

Freshers' Fair

Today I managed to cycle all the way without making any mistakes at all! And only dismounting to push the bike when absolutely necessary- at the beginning and end (at the beginning there's just a short stretch on Bishopsgate which isn't worth riding because you'd then have to make a tricky right turn before getting off almost straight away to pass a bit of road that's closed to traffic on foot; at the end there's a couple of right turns on and off Aldwych which are quite tricky, not to mention Aldwych itself), and on a short one way street.
First up today- Freshers' Fair. This is an event held by all universities, so far as I know, usually on two days, and organised by the Students' Union. LSE's is today and tomorrow, from 10 to 5, but going this morning suited my schedule best- and it means I can tick that off now.
Freshers' Fairs are always incredibly crowded. There is generally a one way system in operation for the duration, and this was no exception. Unlike UCL, which has a very long very wide corridor that at other times has benches to sit on, tables to work at and sometimes boards displaying artwork, so has Freshers' Fair running down that on one side, then turning round and running back the other way down the other side, with an optional detour into a large room off the hall that separates the two halves of the corridor, LSE's turns out to be in a series of small rooms on various floors of one building, with bottle necks at every door. It's also not arranged alphanbetically- but I had a map that was in a free Freshers' guide that was being handed out yesterday. One good thing about it being in small rooms though was that if you knew there was nothing in a particular room you could just skip it- at UCL, apart from that one optional room, you had to go round the whole thing.
So what exactly is Freshers' Fair? Basically, it's a collection of stalls run by the various clubs and societies. Each stall will generally put up posters on the wall behind them, and on the front of their table, hand out flyers, talk to those who show an interest in joining (and sometimes those who are clearly trying to shuffle past as quickly as possible, depending on the enthusiasm of those manning it), and often give away relevant freebees- though the best freebees generally come from the companies (such as insurance or banks) who are also generally present at Freshers' Fair, trying to get people to sign up for their services- at UCL, one year a company was giving out packs of playing cards and another time it was woks- though sadly, in both cases I wasn't up early enough to get on down there before they'd all gone. If you want to join a society, you can write down your name, email address and academic department on a list, and the society will then email you to let you know what events are being organised. The Union rules at LSE say that each society must charge at least £1 as a membership fee (at UCL I think it was possible for a society not to charge if they wanted, but most did- fair enough as they use the money to finance their events). You pay at the stall- at UCL there was a different system where you signed up to the mailing list at the stall but received a form to take later to the reception desk at the Union administrative area above the Bloomsbury theatre, where you paid and received a membership card.
I went overboard rather. I had a great long list of what I wanted to join before I even went in- I have learnt from experience that there are two ways to do Freshers' Fair:
1 Go round with no clear plan, visiting stalls that catch your eye and joining if the spiel persuades you. Then realising, either halfway round the one way system, or when you're out again, that you've managed to miss a few societies you rather wanted to join, and depending on how desperate you are to join them, either gird your loins and plunge in again the one or more times necessary to track down all of them (having, of course, to go round the whole thing, slowly due to the dense crowds, each time), or just persuade yourself that actually you're much happier with the ones you were talked into by the more convincing stall holders
2 Work out exactly what you want to see before hand and where it all is, so that you know what order each stall will appear in and can make sure you don't miss any. Try not to get lured into any of the others
I was going for 2, but still managed to join a few I hadn't been planning to, including the Mauritian society- I was headed for the cycling society, but the Mauritian society turned out to be where it should have been, and when I asked one of the girls running it where the cycling society was, she managed to persuade me to join. I never did find the cycling society. The full list stands at
Living Wage Campaign
French Connection (French society)
Dance
People and Planet
Oikos (sustainability)
Mauritian
Anime and Manga
Gaia (Geography society but also do environmental stuff)
Green Party
British Culture
Japan
Film
Maths and Statistics
I also had problems finding the Alternative Entertainments society, otherwise the list would be even longer. And I had a misunderstanding at the Volunteering stall- due to a combination of my phrasing coming out extremely badly, and the girl I was talking to not having English as her first language, she misunderstood what I said- I was trying to say 'So what kinds of thing can one get involved with with this volunteering?' She asked 'Do you want to volunteer now?' which I thought was odd and I wasn't quite sure what she meant, but it was one of those times when nervousness makes you say 'yes' automatically before you've worked out what the question is, and she said 'I'm sorry, we've got enough people now, but you could come back later'. I think she thought I was offering to relieve her on the stall, but by the time I'd worked that out it was too late. But it doesn't matter, I'm sure there'll be something about it on the internet and I'll still be able to get involved. If I've got any time left after all the above...
Realistically, I imagine I won't be very active within most of them. I'll probably try to go to at least one event from each, but I may then have to let some of them drop, or at least only go to one or two more events in the year. I joined the four environmental societies because the email accepting me as a 'sustainability champion' (awfull name) mentioned them as being usefull- but I doubt I'll actually become part of their comittees. I'll have to see what my workload is like before working out how much I can take on.
After Freshers' Fair, I met Ginger in Lincoln's Inn Fields for lunch. She's doing the second year of a law conversion course in Holborn, so Lincolns' Inn Fields is just a couple of minutes walk from both of us. It was nice to see her again- we always have a good laugh (actually we really do almost nothing but laugh- but that doesn't mean we don't manage to talk about important things at the same time). I told her about my conversation with Cat, and she said what she does is to tease Cat every now and then- that gets her smiling. She tells her that every sentence she says starts with 'When I was in Tibet-'- not of course literally true, but with a certain truth of its own. Cat's never actually been to Tibet, but she's liked it for ages, and spent several months in India near the border teaching English, and there were a lot of Tibetan refugees in the area. And she does indeed like to tell us about how they do things. Not that I don't like to hear about it- but Ginger has rather hit the nail on the head there!

Is it really only Wednesday?

When I was last living in London, all of two years ago, I seem to recall that I would almost always be able to buy all the ingredients I needed for an evening meal for less than £2. That is, if you divide the cost of things like soy sauce, cheese, or flour among all the meals they will be used in. Even when I was cooking for three people each time, I usually managed this. And this was what I based my food budget for this year on. But suddenly everything seems to be quite a bit more expensive...
At least I'm saving money on travel. Though on Monday I had a day using buses to ease myself in, on Tuesday I braved the streets on my bicycle for the first time. Though I made a mistake at just about every point where I had to turn onto a different road, and had to wheel my bike on a few bits where it didn't seem as though you could cycle across (for example some unexpected no right turns where I wanted to turn right) I didn't get really lost, and, as I had known from cycling in my first and third years at UCL, but somehow couldn't quite believe, I was able to verify that cycling in London really does look scarier than it is. With the few places where I have to wheel, and in some cases wait to cross at a pedestrian crossing, it does however come to a journey time of around half an hour- so only ten or fifteen minutes quicker than walking. Still, it's definitely more interesting, since you're either whizzing along too fast to get bored by the same old scenery, or trying to avoid being run over, and it saves carrying a heavy bag (I have a basket).

I cycled in again today, with a little more success though I still went a bit wrong, for the Graduate Students Induction. This was all very important and mostly relevant, but I can't really recall the specific details. It's all on the web though, so it's probably not too important. It was largely about what help and support is availiable, and how the departments are organised. Actually, I think the only thing that really grabbed my attention in the here and now was that apparently (we were told by the General Secretary of the Students' Union) you can buy the Guardian in the LSE shop for 20p. Considering it normally sells for 70p this is obviously a bargain. Though they were sold out by the time I got there today.

After cycling back to halls, I went out again by bus to see whether the London Underground Lost Property Office has my watch (it doesn't) and to get a washing up bowl, brush, cloths and teatowels- I went to Robert Dyas again, since I saw a branch close to the Lost Property Office- I'd thought I'd have to walk to Oxford St. Somehow, I also ended up with an A-Z and some scales- both things I'd meant to get though I hadn't even thought they might sell an A-Z in Robert Dyas, and I wasn't going to get scales today except that they had some reduced from £30 to £4.99 or thereabouts- I hope there isn't a good reason why. The bus ride was actually rather a nostalgia trip, since not only did it pass within sight of UCL, but also very close to where I was living in my fourth year, past shops I used to go to and the Thameslink station entrance to the underground I used to use sometimes.

When I got back I realised the tin of tomatoes I'd bought was not a ringpull type so I had to buy a tinopener. It would have been very easy to get one in Robert Dyas if I'd thought of it... as it was, I wandered down to what my new A-Z told me was called Whitechapel High St, which seemed like a good bet, and where I finally found an electrical, stationery and miscellaneous shop that sold them. So I was able to make my ratatouille as planned.

And of course, I've finally managed to install the internet, after following all the security recommendations on LSE's webpage, which took ages, not helped by the fact that I don't normally use the account with administrator privileges (long story) so one account had internet access and the other was allowed to install programs... At least my computer was able to get on with it during the two fire alarms we had in the course of one hour. I met L again outside, and told her I now knew the extension number for my room phone and would be emailing it to her.

All in all, a busy week, and it's only Wednesday. I thought it would be quiet as there were only two scheduled things I had to attend, but I didn't realise how long it would take to get equipped and generally up and running... Now I can't wait for classes to start, not that I'm exactly looking forward to the workload, but just that I'm getting scared that (a) the course content will be too hard for me, and (b) that I'll never manage to get all the work done and do the extra-curricular stuff I'm hoping will boost my cv. So I just want to see what it's actually like...

I move in

On arrival, I expected to go to reception, maybe sign a couple of forms, get a key, and start moving in. In fact, I had to join a queue. There were some 'senior residents' (who'd already been at LSE for a year or two and have certain duties and responsibilities in the hall) on hand to direct everyone, and they were telling new arrivals to go and wait in the common room, in the basement, and to move all their luggage down there too. This seemed a bit bizarre, as the chances were you wouldn't get a room at basement level so would have to lug everything back up an extra flight of stairs. Actually, while this was true for some people, it turned out that three quarters or so of residents had to go down to basement level and across a courtyard garden to reach the right flight of stairs for their room- including me.

There were ten or so people in the common room when I got there. Most people were too shy to talk, but there was a group of Greek students talking to a UK student mostly in Greek, and I did get talking to an American girl, L, who was nice. Sometimes the senior residents showing people into the common room asked who was there last, so they could see where they were in the queue, but sometimes not so it was a little confusing, but I managed to remember my place, and was called away from my conversation with L after I'd been there half an hour or so. When I got to the front desk, I couldn't understand what had been taking so long- all I had to do was read, sign and date two pieces of paper, then I got my key. I went back out of the front door in search of my parents, but they'd disappeared so I went up to my room, escorted by one of the senior residents, dumped my bag, and then went back down. This time my parents were outside (they'd been moving the car) and they helped me take everything up. It was quite a struggle because sometimes we didn't all fit in the lift, and though my room's on the third floor, the ground level is actually at the basement level so it was four flights with heavy stuff.

We went and had lunch in a nearby cafe, then I said goodbye to my parents and went in search of a shop to get some supplies in. I really wanted Sainsbury's, which I have an irrational fondness for, but all I found was Tesco express, which I have an irrational dislike of, even though Tesco is where my parents shop. So I got some stuff there- after walking a fair way to see whether there was a Sainsbury's some distance further on. On my walk, I saw two tube train carriages placed high up, not on tracks but where it looked as though there might have been tracks once, and a bridge over the road. They were covered in graffiti. I wasn't quite sure if they were just there for want of somewhere better to put them, or if they were supposed to be artistic. But I quite liked them, though they would have been better without the graffiti maybe.

I came back to my flat and unpacked, made the bed, etc- though I couldn't put my clothes away because there were, surprisingly, no drawers, but just a cupboard with a shelf and a rail but no hangers. They're still in their suitcases at the moment but I'm planning to get some hangers and maybe also some cheap plastic drawers- I'd use them at home as well. I also read through the rules and regulations. No sticking posters up except on the doors and on the notice board- pins only on the board, blutack only on the doors, no sticky tape, and nothing on the painted areas. If the radiator isn't warm enough, students are allowed to buy an oil heater but not an electric fan heater as that is apparently a safety risk*. Guests have to be signed in and can stay a maximum of three nights in any seven. And, though it wasn't written down, it turns out that you can't have a shower with the door open** as the fire alarm is so sensitive that it will be set off by steam- not that I mind that, but it also means you can't boil a kettle to make tea in your room. All these years I've been nostalgic for the good old days of halls, and I'd forgotten why it was that at the time I couldn't wait to move out...

The other reason why I wanted to move out was the continual fire alarms. You were lucky if they only went off in the middle of the night once every two weeks, when someone tried to make toast while drunk. Here, things haven't settled down yet as people are still getting used to both the presence of the fire alarms, and in some cases, living away from home and cooking for the first time. We've had about four or five in the 48 hours since I arrived... and not only do I have to go down those 4 flights of stairs to evacuate, but actually the courtyard garden isn't the assembly point, though it seems totally mad, you actually have to cross that and go inside again, up one flight to the ground floor and out of the front door. This takes me about 30 seconds less than it takes the staff to verify that it's a false alarm and turn it off. So although it's good not to have to hang around***, there is a strange kind of futility to going all that way, waiting a few seconds and then going all the way back. My favourite fire alarms so far have been: the one yesterday morning when I'd just come back from the Tesco express with some things for breakfast, had just climbed those four flights, was just about to open the door of the flat- then down again, then back up again when the alarm was off- though I'd normally take the stairs to go to my room, in this case, having just climbed them once already, I would have taken the lift except that it's already out of order. You can imagine that by the time I reached the door of my flat for the second time, I was pretty exhausted.

And the one at 3 am this morning. Of course, I knew there would be a fair few of these, so almost the first thing I did when unpacking was to hang my very warm coat on the back of my door. It's the coat I had for the Japanese winter, with built in fleece and padded skirt, and I won't be wearing it in the normal course of things for a few months- but it's a lot better than a dressing gown when you have to go outdoors in the small hours, with only nightie or pyjamas underneath. Normally, if I'm woken by a noise or needing to visit the loo or anything, I can go back to sleep again straight away (provided the noise doesn't continue), but somehow, after summoning enough presence of mind to remember my keycard and find my shoes, going down four flights of stairs, across a courtyard, up another flight and out of the front door, then going back through the door, down one flight, across a courtyard, and up four flights of stairs, I was wide awake when I got back to bed...

Something I missed in my UCL days**** was the socialising events of the first couple of days- I assume they did have some. Here, there was a party on the first night, in the courtyard and the common room, with free wine and nibbles, and I talked to quite a few interesting people, though it was slightly bad planning as the party started at 4 (with some speeches by Students' Union
officers about their services), by which time I'd met just one of my flatmates, a very tall Canadian, and of course, though I met many people from other flats (which was important as there isn't much chance of getting to talk to them in the normal course of things- unless, I suppose you go to the common room at the same time as them- since we can't get into other flats), there was no way of trying to find the rest of my own flatmates since, not having met them, I didn't have a clue what they looked like.

By about 8:30, the party was getting a little wild- it had been going on for four hours, and every now and then there was the smash of a dropped glass. In the common room, a South American student was playing Latin music and people were dancing- but for some reason, I couldn't quite get my body to dance properly. I met L again, and she said she wanted to see my flat, so we left together, and I showed her the kitchen and my room. I offered her some supper, as I had an unopened jar of pesto and a big packet of pasta, but having flown from America that morning she was more tired than hungry and went back to her own flat, not before we'd swapped contact details.

The next night, there was a quiz with free pizza (delivered by Pizza Hut) followed by a pub crawl, led by some senior residents***** . I met some more nice people, and though our team didn't do that well, we had a good time. Not everybody went on the pub crawl, but I wanted to, and M, anopther American student who I'd just met, and who'd been wavering, decided to come along, partly because I said I wouldn't stay for the whole thing and would be able to find my way back. I thought the pubs would all be just one or two streets away, but actually it was a massive hike all the way to Hoxton, and I felt a bit bad because it was really too far for M, as she was very tired, and I don't think she'd have come if she'd realised. I also felt bad when, having got talking to A (one of my teammates on the quiz and another American) while waiting to be served at the second pub, and gone to sit with him and another guy, from the UK, I looked around for M when we all left that one (thinking she might want to go home now) and she'd already left- I hope she found someone who knew the way back! As it turned out, that was it for the pub crawl- we visited another one on the way back, but left again without anyone getting a drink- it was really loud in there and you couldn't have a conversation which didn't really help with getting to know people, so I wasn't sorry, though I'm not sure if that's why we didn't stay there.

That morning, I'd met up with one of my UCL friends, Cat, who was passing through London on her way back from visiting Ginger******- I was invited but couldn't go because of moving in. We went and sat in Covent garden and chatted for ages over cups of chai- I would have liked to take her back to my halls for lunch, but she had to get back to pack herself (she's going to do a masters in Social Anthropology at Durham and is moving in today), and also didn't want to lug her heavy bag around (I also wanted her help looking for a present for S, another UCL friend who's having a birthday party on Saturday, but I understood- it really was a very heavy bag). The problem with Cat is that, though I like her a lot, somehow the combination of the two of us is not good in that we always end up talking about really serious and depressing stuff like future career possibilities, whether we should have a tax-funded healthcare system, the meaning of life, and so on. If we're with Ginger as well, we're usually more lighthearted- when I'm by myself with Ginger, practically every line of the conversation is a joke, and some of that comes into play with the three of us. I was discussing this with Cat (another serious topic!), and we tried not to be so serious (and I made her promise not to mention career options for 15 minutes- every conversation I have with her these days ends up turning into a discussion of what she might decide to go and do and although it's not even my life and my career somehow I get stressed by osmosis)- we actually succeeded a little bit, though of course consciously trying is not the best way to go about it (but if we didn't try we didn't get anywhere at all); maybe we'll get there in the end.

After I left Cat, I went back home, via the Sainsbury's in Holborn that I knew existed but that I had difficulty finding from where I was. It turned out not to be that big, and didn't have everything, but I managed to stock up on quite a few things, including essentials such as cooking oil; I actually couldn't have carried any more anyway. They didn't have Ecover washing up liquid, which I wanted because it's better for the environment (and being the environmental volunteer... actually, I'd use it anyway because it's silly to use products that are harmfull to nature when there's a safer alternative), but after lunch (which I had back at halls), I went to the whole food shop I'd spotted just round the corner, and found a whole range of Ecover products there. Then I went back into the centre, to Oxford St, because I hadn't been able to find anywhere that might sell towels any closer, got some in Marks and Spencer (a good deal actually- a bundle of 2 flannels, 2 hand towels and 2 bath towels for £9.50), some soap, a soap dish, a plastic box for stuff I want to keep in the bathroom*******, and a set of acrylic desk top drawers for odds and ends- I felt a little guilty at all the spending, but having a place to put everything will make a huge difference to my ability to keep my room tidy, which will have a knockon effect on my mental health (I find a messy room depressing- doesn't everyone?- though that doesn't mean I actually get round to doing anything about it) and will save time that I would otherwise spend looking for things, thus giving me more time to study. Besides, I'll use them long after I've left halls.

*Personally I'd have thought an oil heater was more dangerous- not only can that, like a fan heater, be a fire risk, but there's also the possibility of carbon monoxide poisoning. Of course, I wouldn't suggest that the reason for the rule is that our rent includes electricity and they don't want people gulping it up with permanently on fan heaters...

**All the rooms are ensuite

***At my UCL halls, they had to get the firemen for every alarm (I think it was automatic) so everyone had to wait till they turned up and investigated thoroughly, which could be as long as 15 minutes...

****UCL was my insurance offer, and though I should have applied for halls anyway, I didn't really understand that they would automatically cancel my place if I didn't go to UCL, and thought that to apply would mean messing them around in that case. So I had to go on the waiting list for halls, and didn't arrive till two weeks or so after everyone else. It also meant I ended up as the only girl on a corridor of boys- the policy was not to put girls on the ground floor for security reasons, but that was the spot that came up when I got to the top of the list, so that was where I went. Another reason I was looking forward to moving out of halls- I don't like sleeping on the ground floor, not because I don't feel safe, but because it just feels wrong to me. So I'm actually happy to be on the third floor this year- except when the fire alarm goes

*****Who evidently didn't know the area that well or have great senses of direction as they had to stop and ask the way at one point, and we walked in an arc rather than the most direct way

******Not their real names, obviously. But if I'm going to be anonymous then it's only fair they should be too. Cat because she does have some cat like tendencies, and Ginger, not because she has red hair (she doesn't), but because she once said if she was going to have a nickname, she might want it to be that- in an early 20th c/ Biggles parody kind of way. These were the two I shared a flat with in my final year of UCL.

*******which will stop it getting wet- the previous night I made quite a puddle on the floor from using the shower which was not so good as I was using a cardboard box at that point and it was on the ground- it seems to be ok though

A rainy Friday

It rained today. Huge volumes of water, coming down so hard that the highest windscreen wiper setting wasn't really enough, and the road was awash, not just with puddles but actual flowing currents of water. The sky was one uniform sheet of pale grey. 'Torrential downpour' would seem to be the most apt description- and that's not something you can say that often in this country. It reminded me of the rain in Japan. So hard to believe that yesterday was relentlessly hot sun.

But I got some sheets and the remaining things I needed for my bike: two tires, two inner tubes, two lights and a saddle. £71. It would almost be cheaper to buy a new bike... still, at least this should last a while. Money has been flowing through my hands like water lately (the sheets cost £44 in all)*, but then I anticipated there'd be some startup costs, what with everything I'd need to buy at the beginning, and allowed a generous £1000 for everything- though that has to include textbooks too.

Dad's been helping me get my bike in working order- by which I mean, he's been getting my bike in working order whilst I've been watching, fetching an occasional tool, and carrying out (according to his instructions) some of the simpler but more time consuming tasks like oiling the chain and working the links back and forth to get it over its rusted-togetherness**, and spinning each wheel in turn while holding a piece of sandpaper to the rim, to get off some of the rust- Dad says the rest will gradually come off from contact with the brake pads. It's not that I'm not mechanically minded- I am, it's just I haven't learned enough about bicycles over the course of my life to know how to look after them, whereas Dad knows exactly what to do***

So now it's just all the packing (in spite of those good resolutions I haven't made a start yet- but I am going to after this. And I have all tomorrow)

*though that was partly because I can't stand fitted ones (pop off halfway through every night) or synthetic ones (go all thin and bobbly in no time), and because even though it will be a single bed in halls, I got double sheets as I find single ones don't give you enough to tuck in to stop them coming off either

**that was on Wednesday and the cycle oil is still indelibly lodged in black deposits between the ridges on one finger

***I'm not quite sure when he learned, but I imagine if he didn't know anything about bikes before his trip around the world^ with Mum on a tandem a year or two after they got married he would certainly have done by the time they got back

^Well, not really round the world. They didn't visit every country and they didn't even complete a circle from east to west. But they were away for many months and did go to a lot of places.

It Begins

Yup, more Portugal, more decoration, still totally irrelevant.

I may not have moved into halls yet, but as of today I have officially made the transition from Future Student to Student. With an ID card and everything to prove it.

For some reason, today was the day allocated for most masters students to register. Though I could have saved myself the train fare (as the website did mention that those moving into halls could wait and register after that) I went up to London anyway, as I didn't entirely trust myself not to have got the wrong end of the stick about that. So I got my first look at LSE.*

Rather inconsiderately, London seemed to have moved about a bit since I was living there a couple of years ago. I could have sworn the curvy bit used to be between Charing Cross and Trafalgar square... Oh well, it's not far down the Strand from Charing Cross, and it was a lovely day. Summer is definitely still here, and there's no doubt about it, a little sunshine can go a long way to making you happy. Even if it does also make you very hot, and you end up drinking three bottles of water.

Arriving at LSE, I walked confidently up to the Peacock Theatre, aided only slightly by the map of the university buildings in the MSc Statistics handbook they sent me some weeks ago. When I got there, however, instead of the lecture theatre in an academic building that I was expecting, I found an actual theatre, advertising the upcoming performance of the Ballets Trockadero De Monte Carlo. Peering through the doors I saw a sign above a counter saying 'Box Office', a lot of posters, and nothing making any reference to LSE. I walked round it looking for a more academic looking entrance, but that was it, so I went in. I wasn't too confounded by it being a proper theatre- after all, UCL had the UCL Bloomsbury, though that was more given to advertising the UCL connection, where as this one seemed to want to emphasise a link with Sadler's Wells- but the lack of indication of where to go to register was worrying me. For want of a better idea, I queued up behind a man ordering tickets for some show or other, to ask the man at the desk if I was in the right place and in any case if he knew which way I should go. The man in front certainly took his time. He had to ring up someone to check whether they were happy with the seats he'd been offered, and I must have been there for several minutes. Still, there was a screen showing excerpts from upcoming productions which were well worth watching, including the Ballets Trockadero, but also a dance piece with people in half white, half black catsuits dancing on a black stage so their black halves were invisible, and when pairs came together in certain ways the two white halves made up a single figure that seemed to be floating, and then there were some monks who did endless backflips. But after a while I did get a little impatient. I thought I might as well just double check on the map that this really was supposed to be part of LSE, while I was waiting. Yes, just as I thought, look, it's shaded in, it's got a letter I which if you refer to the key shows it's the Peacock Theatre, and the entrance is clearly marked just where I came in. I am in the right place, damn it! Then I thought I might as well get out my diary, where I'd noted the details, just to have another look to pass the time since the man still hadn't completed the transaction. Look, what did I tell you, it says right there- oh wait a minute, it says 'Hong Kong Theatre' for this one. Peacock Theatre is for the thing next week. Whoops.

After another quick look at the map I found the Hong Kong Theatre's building, Connaught House, pretty easily; the theatre itself was not quite so obvious- but a sign on the wall said it was on the ground floor and when I got in a little way I saw that apart from the lifts ahead there was only one way to go on the ground floor, through some glass doors. There were a couple of current students sitting by the doors to check that everyone going through had indeed come for the registration. Then some more doors with some notices I didn't bother to read, and right inside the door a long table with two men sitting at it, who again wanted to check I'd come to register, asked to see my offer letter and passport, then sent me to a table at the other end of the room, where I showed both again and was handed a plastic ID card with my photo and student number on it. That was it. I did take a couple more seconds asking 'I thought it said on the website something about getting your LSE computer account and email address at registration?'- the man didn't know anything about that but pointed out on a map where I could go to ask about it. The whole registration can't have taken more than a minute- I probably took longer stuffing everything back in my bag in the corridor afterwards. Not that I thought there'd be that much to it- but I thought there'd maybe be a couple of forms to fill in, and a photo taken for the ID card, as there was at UCL (I would have liked that as the one they used, that I sent with my application as asked, was not great), and above all I thought there'd be queues. Queues and queues and queues that took half an hour from start to finish, during which one could make new friends and meet people, bonding in a shared feeling of 'Why won't they just hurry up?', and possibly exchanging phone numbers or email addresses at the end. I didn't meet anyone. There wasn't time.

I wandered off in the direction of the City. At this point I was thinking I had time to kill, because I'd bought a cheap day return- partly because I thought everything would take long enough that I'd be coming home after the evening peak but also because it's quite a bit cheaper: you see a fairly recent introduction on my line has been that cheap day returns are no longer valid during the evening peak even if you're going beyond Oxford. Very annoying- you now have to decide what time you're likely to want to come back before you've even set out. On the plus side, at least it appears to be cheaper than before if you don't mind avoiding that time. Anyway, I wandered off in the direction of the City, because I thought I had time to kill, and I had a sudden whim to go and see my halls. Of course, I wouldn't be able to go in, but I could go and have a look from the outside, check out the area, and see what it was like walking from LSE.

It turned out to be a fair way- supposedly half an hour but I think it was probably more like three quarters, though it was hard to be sure as I stopped off a couple of times on the way- once at a cycle shop for a thing for linking a pump to a bike, since I'd lost mine- the man was very nice: he said he thought they'd had one of those floating around and spent ages looking absolutely everywhere for it but in the end he drew a blank so I just got a new pump- and once at Tesco's for a bottle of water. I generally take a bottle filled from the tap with me wherever I go, to save money and waste, but this time I'd already drunk it all, it was so hot. It was very nice to have chilled water for once.

When I was walking round the half circle at the end of the Strand on my way to registering, I'd been remembering the times I'd been there before- it was on my route when I cycled in my third year from Camberwell: I'd wheel the bike round the curve then head off up Drury Lane, and then when I gave up on cycling as it was such a long way, it was on the bus route. The 68, The Bus That Thinks It's A Snail, would often take quite a while to work round Bush House in the heavy traffic- at least it's an interesting building to look at. Though that wasn't even the slowest part of the route- mind you, it should be remembered that when I started taking it the congestion charge was still a few months away. So I'd been there many times before- but only once on foot. That was when I went with some friends to watch the Queen's Jubilee in the summer after my second year. It looked quite different then, with all the crowds. Now I really appreciated the interesting stonework on the building that was too high up to be seen from a bus, and not where I'd been looking when pushing my bike and concentrating on not bumping into people, and I looked down Kingsway (shortly before my triumphant identification of the Peacock Theatre) and was surprised to see it was lined with trees which I'd somehow missed before and which were very nice. Well, it had been winter most of the time I was taking the bus...

Walking to my halls was also not entirely new territory. To begin with, I was reminded of a stroll I'd decided to make through the City once, one Saturday- I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it's a ghost town at weekends. No shops open, which is a little annoying if you happen to want something, but no people on the streets which is a pleasantly novel feeling for central London. I'd happened upon Dr Johnson's house; I didn't go in, but it was in quite a nice courtyard. I didn't see that this time, but I did discover that on that visit I'd barely penetrated into the City at all. This time I discovered the Bank of England, saw the Millennium Bridge, which I've always meant to go over and someday will, and suddenly saw a great view of St Paul's at the end of a side street which made me wish I had my camera with me. It was quite fun navigating without a map, and such a sense of achievement when I made it to Liverpool St without having taken any wrong turns (though I'll admit to checking a map on a subway at one point- one thing I love about London is that it's impossible to get lost- keep walking and you'll find a bus stop, subway or underground station with a map to help you out (and if it's all Greek to you at least you can generally take a bus or tube to somewhere you recognise)). From there, though, I did start walking the wrong way, and had to go back to Liverpool St to find a map to show me the way to go. It turns out that the road had been gently bending since Threadneedle St started by the Bank of England, so I was approaching from the south where I'd thought I'd been coming from the west. I was also confused by not recognising the entrance to the station as I'd expected to- whilst I'd been walking through unfamiliar territory since the Strand-most edges of the City, I should now have been back with what I knew, since I'd had to come there most years at UCL for one or two of my end of year exams at the Bishopsgate Institute, just one of the many places over London where UCL holds them. After a look at the map I found the way to Bishopsgate, where there was the entrance I was used to, and ahead, the two sticky-up things of the Institute (I think that was its name, anyway- it had the Bishopsgate Great Hall and the Bishopsgate Upper Hall inside). It was quite strange walking towards it on a sunny day that could easily have been in May, without an exam to worry about for the first time. But my turning came before I reached the building itself.

I found the halls; they looked quite nice, very modern interiors as you'd expect seeing as they've only just been built (though you couldn't see much through the windows and door), and the house itself old or old style- I think it may have been converted from something. Not much parking though- I had a scout round with Sunday's move in mind and found only around 4 pay and display spaces with the rest Residents' Permits Only untill 2 on Sundays (if I've understood it right). So it might be quite a scrum- though with only narrow streets rather than a car park, and so many students arriving, it would be even if they were all park-where-you-want. Even at Roehampton, with a fair few car parks, there was nowhere to park when we got there. Fine, of course, for 99% of the year, since I don't expect most students will have cars, and I certainly don't, but deeply annoying for just that one day. (And the one in 9 months time when I have to move out...) Still, I'm sure it'll all work out somehow.

I checked out 'vibrant'** Spitalfields market before coming back- it seemed more like sedate Spitalfields market to me, but I suppose it wasn't a weekend. Nice though. It's right at the T-junction at the end of the short street with my halls in, so no distance at all. It'll be pleasant to browse, and I might get some Christmas presents there, but I must stop myself from getting carried away. There were some food stalls though, selling nice bread, cheese, and vegetables- I'll check out the prices and if they're not too steep I might be shopping there quite a bit.

On the way back I did pass the Bishopsgate Institute. As I passed it I had a fleeting half-conscious feeling that it was an evil place that I wanted to get away from quickly. Oh dear, I seem to have developed an irrational fear. Such is the legacy of exams...

*Since I didn't go to any open days or anything

**For some reason it appears to be the obligatory adjective to use when describing it- any time someone wants to sell the Liverpool St area to you they'll mention that 'nearby is the vibrant Spitalfields market'

Sustainability, here I come!

Well, they accepted me for the 'Environmental Assistants aka Sustainability Champions' voluntary post (see here). On the plus side, this promises to be interesting and challenging and look good on all those application forms I'll be filling in*. On the minus side, it means I'll actually have to do something about it, and it all seems a little scary. Not least because, in true LSE style, they've omitted to mention (since it was a standard form email) whether all those suggestions I put in the 'How can you assist us with environmental initiatives?' box actually meet with their approval or whether they'd rather I didn't do some of them. Still, I suppose that doesn't stop me pressing ahead with them anyway- mostly it's the approval of the halls staff I need to get, not LSE's Environmental and Sustainability Coordinator. Besides, there will apparently be a briefing pack for me when I arrive at halls, and a meeting I'm supposed to go to in the first week (rather unhelpfully it doesn't say when, but maybe the pack has the details).

Meanwhile, I've just paid all my hall fees for the year- unlike my UCL halls, which required payment at some point in the middle of each term, these ones want it before you move in. You don't have to pay online- I imagine it'd be illegal for them to make it compulsory because they certainly give the impression that if they could they would. They practically tell you to in the 'How To Avoid Queues and Delays On Move In Day' email and subsequent ones, with barely a mention of the possibility that you could pay in person when you get there. However, I am in fact all for avoiding queues and delays so I paid up. Having received and deposited a cheque from my mother for the amount she's loaning me to finance this year**, I was able to take advantage of the option to pay all the fees now instead of just the first term's instalment.

This seemed like a good idea because I'm not always the best person at remembering urgent deadlines for paying bills and sending things off and so on, and particularly because I got the impression there wouldn't even be a bill. Although the halls are privately run***, they seem to share certain elements of organisational philosophy with LSE, who explicitly state that they Don't Do bills for tuition fees****- it's fortunate that I've already got those paid too. Personally I'd have thought that the little extra expense incurred by emailing, if not sending a letter to, all students would have been worth the hassle saved by a lot more of them remembering that now was the time to pay- but what do I know. I suppose again, the fact that you were supposed to pay in advance and basically could do so any time from getting your offer (and were informed of that at the time) did to a certain extent do away with the need for a bill- but there was the possibility to pay in instalments so it would be usefull there, and in spite of the discounts offered for paying various numbers of months in advance*****, I expect there were still people who put it off- I'm sure it would help them to have a reminder.

It reminds me of my experience in my first year at UCL, when the first I knew of them not having received my final hall fees (due some time in May) was when they were witholding my results for being in debt to the university at the end of July or beginning of August, and I had to ring up to find out what I owed and why. I was very surprised when I found out it was hall fees- I'd sent off the cheque pretty near the deadline, but I had sent it off, and as far as I was concerned I'd paid- it was a building society not a bank cheque, so the money went out of my account when I received the cheque from the building society to send on to UCL, not when they presented it, so there was no way for me to know they hadn't- especially as they Didn't Do receipts (unless specifically asked). Had they sent me a letter or email a couple of weeks after the deadline, if not on the deadline itself, I would have sorted things out a lot sooner, they could have got their money much quicker, and I wouldn't have had a lost and unstopped cheque floating around for a few months******. This taught me two valuable lessons:

1. Universities may be institutions encompassing vast numbers of geniuses and leaders in their field, but they can't do admin and
2. Always state you want a receipt.
   

*And provides an application form confidence shot- it may well be that they accepted me because no-one else applied. But I shall be telling myself that it was my brilliant way of selling myself that led to my triumphing over the hundreds of other impressive candidates.

**I'm very aware of how lucky I am. If my parents hadn't been able to lend me the funds for this year, I'd have had a choice between working at the same time to support myself (can impair your studies, and it's very unlikely I could have managed at LSE, which not only has very high tuition fees and is situated in expensive London, but forbids students to work more than 15 hours a week. You'd have to be earning a lot per hour to make ends meet), borrowing from banks or credit card companies (which charge a lot of interest and aren't very understanding about postponing repayment if it takes you a while to find work after graduation) and just not doing the masters. They have made this year possible for me and I'm very gratefull to them- and sad that not everyone is in my position. Bring back grants and do away with tuition fees! It won't cover everything but it'd go a fair way to help.

***For those who don't know, not the norm- generally the university runs its own halls, and indeed LSE runs just about all its others. Though who knows whether this may not become a more common arrangement in the future- it seems to have started within the past few years at various places. Not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing, really.

****To be fair, I can't remember whether UCL did bills either- though I do seem to remember that they would send out emails letting people know it was time to pay some time in the autumn term (you didn't have to pay in advance there)

*****Not as well publicised as they should have been- you only found out about them when you looked into paying the fees, so for those people who would have been swayed by them to pay early, as LSE wants, had they known but who actually are only paying now, the discounts are not doing their job- in fact, since pretty much the only people who'll find out about them in time are those who are already paying early, you could say that they're not really benefitting LSE. Their loss.

******It wasn't UCL's fault, since (I assume) they didn't lose the cheque and they didn't make me have a building society account, but cancelling was quite an annoying process as I had to get UCL to sign to say they hadn't received it before I could get the first cheque stopped.

Anticipating the Move

More Portugal. Totally irrelevant but it's prettier than just text

I went into Cheltenham today and got the small pyrex dish, the chopping board, the knives, and the wooden spatula, from Robert Dyas, where I get most of my cooking equipment. It may be silly to have to pack them and take them all the way to London when I could just as easily get them there. But I know I've got them now, and if I want to use them on my first night (quite likely with the board and knives) I won't have to worry about going shopping for them after all the hassle of moving in. Still got to see about a mixing bowl, measuring jug and scales, among other things, though

Here's what I'm looking forward to about living in halls- and what I'm not:

Good things

• I can decide what to eat and when*
• I'll be in London- extremely easy access to shops, cafes, bars, restaurants, cinemas and general stuff to do, and with a great transport system that runs frequently and even through the night- though in the day time, for reasonable distances, I'll hopefully be cycling (if I can get my bike sorted in time)
• Being situated much more conveniently for meeting up with all but one of my friends, and to have them round for supper or to stay the night
  
• I can have a shower when I want- the noise of the shower keeps/ wakes Dad up so here I have to have one before he goes to bed at 10 or 11, when I'm not always ready. It wouldn't be a problem if I was a morning shower person, but I'm not. The thought of even warm water sooner than three hours after waking is enough to stop me getting up altogether.
  
• A fresh start as far as tidiness is concerned- currently, as it lies in wait for me, my future room is, I assume, tidy. If I don't take too much stuff (ahem), work out a place for everything, make everything vaguely neat before I go to bed, and have a proper tidy once a week, then there is some hope that I may be able to keep it that way. This will be good for my mental health, since I am an untidy person who dislikes untidiness and the inherent conflict has led to a certain amount of despondency. Ideally I'd like to leave my room here tidy so it will be nice to come back to... but I have a feeling that's not going to happen
  
• A feeling of independence. I'm very fond of my parents, but it'll be nice to feel that I'm living a proper adult life with all associated freedoms and responsibilities again.
  
• An assortment of new people, flatmates and hallmates, to enjoy meeting and living with. I'm sure they'll all be very nice...
  

Bad things

• No burning incense or candles- and I brought back some very nice incense from Japan as well.
  
• It is an apparently essential part of the halls experience that there should be at least one middle of the night fire alarm every two weeks**. When this happens, everyone has to get out of bed and wait outside untill the firemen have been and pronounced it a false alarm- everyone, even if they're ill, drunk, in the middle of an urgent essay or just very very comfortable where they are, thankyou. I seem to recall one fire alarm where my best friend had just come down with something, and had to be looked after by another friend, who found her somewhere to sit and something to keep warm in. I would have done it myself only I'd only come in a few hours ago and was still rather drunk...
  
• Late night loud music- I'm hoping this won't be such a problem among postgraduates (I expect I'll be put with other postgraduates), but I can remember several occasions in my first year where I lay awake trying to shut out the sounds filtering in from above, almost getting to the point of going and asking them to turn it down... and then there was the time, admittedly at a reasonable hour of the morning, though I hadn't been planning on getting up that early, when I was woken by a piece of music that was played not once, but something like ten times. I didn't even like it the first time- I think it was drum 'n' bass or something- and by the tenth time I very definitely didn't like it.
  
• Of course, I'll miss my parents, and my cat.
• The possibility of a flatmate with really aggrivating habits- actually to be honest, I think if I did end up with one, the enjoyment of resenting what they did and relating the outrageous things you wouldn't have thought anyone would actually think could possibly be acceptable would outweigh the unpleasantness of putting up with their behaviour.
  

*At home my dad likes to cook, and doesn't like to eat any later than about 7, whereas sometimes I'd prefer to wait till 8 or so. He also does all the shopping. I do cook now and then- but the rest of the time, if it's stir fry and I'm not in a stir fry mood, then that's just tough. He also has a different style of cooking to me- for example whereas I would not cook a stir fry that long, so as to leave the vegetables quite crisp, he cooks them till they're soft, and he includes leafy things like pak choi, and also beansprouts, which I wouldn't do (well beansprouts sometimes, but not very often)- and the leaves disintegrate. He cuts the onions finely where I would do them in large lozenge shapes (by cutting the onion into segments^, and he cuts peppers and stuff pretty small too, so individual vegetables don't stand out and what you get is a fairly homogenous mess where every forkfull is the same and you don't automatically know what you're eating unless you stop and think 'Oh yes, that's a bit of pepper there, and next to that some onion, and underneath is a bit of mushroom, then that floppy green thing is pak choi' Finally, he uses fresh ginger (I use powdered) which is very good for you, I'm sure, but is also unpleasantly firey when you chew a piece- and because there's a lot of it cut up small, you don't know you're going to chew it till you do. In spite of all this, I do consider my dad to be a good cook- just one with a different philosophy and ideas about things to me. After all, it doesn't end up like that because he's no good, he actually intends the dish to be that way. And in fact, after a couple of months without eating his food I do miss it. It's just that days and days of it can be a bit oppressive.

**Generally caused by people coming back drunk from pubs or clubs and trying to make toast- there's something about the manufacture of toast that seems to render it impossible to do while sloshed without producing a lot of smoke

^Or as we mathematicians say, sectors: segments is actually something else. If my recollections of year 8 maths are right...

The Very Long List

Portugal was good, by the way...

I tend to panic a little when I know I have something complex that has to be done before a certain deadline- like packing everything up to move house, completing my Japanese project at university (it had to be handwritten on special paper, with a bibliography, so there were the competing tasks of finishing writing the draft version, copying the already-written parts up neatly with no mistakes, and putting down all the website addresses that I'd got information from- while juggling a large stack of printouts from said websites, about three dictionaries, and the draft and proper copies), or just getting everything together to go on holiday. Funnily, this sense of anxiety as to whether I'm going to have everything ready in time doesn't lead to my making an immediate start on tackling as much of it as possible, so that there will only be a tiny, non-panic-attack-causing quantity to do at the last minute. But it does lead to my making mental, and in extreme cases actual physical written-down-on-a-piece-of-paper, lists of exactly what needs to be done and in what order it should be carried out in order to achieve maximum efficiency and minimum 3 am racking of brains in an attempt to remember what else it was that was supposed to happen before I can go to bed. Of course, I'm always determined that this time I'll start early, days early, but somehow whenever there's a question of getting going on it all I point out to myself that there's no need to be doing it yet, and in fact it would be better to wait a little longer as I might want to use the things I'm going to be packing again before I leave. But this time, I really am going to start early...

In the meantime, before I went to Portugal, the mountain of packing for university and the foothills of packing for Portugal itself were looming over me so largely that I made a couple of lists. Here is the one for university- it was intended to be a comprehensive list whose main purpose was to ensure I didn't forget anything vital, like a duvet or my pyjamas*, due to trying to remember what it is I need but haven't packed, if indeed there is anything, in the early hours of the morning. Where this list departs from previous, unrecorded, itemizations of things packed for university is that I've finally accepted that I don't need to take fifty-odd books. I will take five or so and renew them by changing them for others on visits home, joining a library in London and maybe visiting second hand book sales with some restraint. I'm also not taking my CDs, which used to all fit in one two story plastic CD tower, which for some reason my mother was always the one to pick up during the move in, and which would then promptly come apart slightly, allowing all the CDs to slip so that some of them wedged the thing preventing proper reassembly without taking them all out, while the majority just fell on the ground. I would then have to put the tower back together and replace everything in the middle of the pavement or car park. This time, I have a laptop (acquired in order to take it to Japan, so as to have the internet there- and be able to watch DVDs) and I have copied on to it almost all the CDs I could possibly want to listen to (the remaining ones are a task for this week), thus eliminating the need for not only the great tower of CDs, but also the choice of which to put in it now that I have many more than will fit, and a CD player. Though it may be the cause of some rather strange noises for my new flatmates, since I have an almost unconscious habit of whistling along while listening to music, and with my laptop not having great speakers, I'll be using headphones, so that they won't have the benefit of the music itself which makes it all sound perfectly fine from my perspective.

The DVDs, which have accompanied me from my 3rd year, after I began acquiring them in my second, will also take up less space this time, since I'm intending to use the two 40-disc folders I bought to take CDs and DVDs to Japan for them. Again, it will mean some selection, and it will be slightly annoying not to have the cases with me, but it will be worth it for the smaller amount of space they'll use. Although I'll probably take my box sets of ER** and The West Wing in their boxes.

The funny thing about packing for university is that, if I think about how much I actually need to live my life (cutting out CDs, DVDs and books) at a time when the last occasion of moving is sufficiently far in the past, and without actually going into detail of what the necessities would consist of, I'm convinced it should all fit into a small backpack- with maybe a suitcase as well for clothes if you want more than one change. Yet if I sit down to list it all, what you get is pretty much what follows. Which, if you try to pack it, takes from experience about seven boxes plus assorted bags. Though this time I'm hoping to manage with one jumbo suitcase, one small one, one bag containing laptop and accessories, a small rucksack, a small zipped bag and two cardboard boxes of kitchen equipment. Not quite sure where the printer and scanner fit in...

*The latter being my classic number one forgotten item when it comes to packing for anything. Given that I know this, one would have thought it surprising that I don't therefore, when I'm worrying about forgetting stuff, think 'Ah, my pyjamas, I usually forget them, must pack them first while I remember'.

**All acquired in Japan. I liked ER anyway, but in Japan I had a real need to be able to watch something in English in the evening, after a day surrounded by Japanese, so as not to feel too homesick. Since I was earning a salary, I felt able to splash out a little and bought series 1-6 and 9 (I would have got 7 and 8 too if I'd been there a little longer)- though this could go some way towards explaining why I came back without any savings. The purchases were also justified by the logic that not only would they provide English viewing material in Japan, but since there was also a dubbed-into-Japanese option, they would provide good listening practice when I was back home... Ahem. I'm sure I'll try that out one day...

To demonstrate how there is always something else to remember, I will be adding to this list in red as new things occur to me. The green entries, meanwhile, are things I haven't actually got but need to buy- why they're on the list I'm not quite sure as it makes sense to get them after I arrive, but there you go.

Kitchen equipment

Pans 3 & lids 2 [one is a frying pan]
Mugs 3 or 4 [I have 4 but one seems to have disappeared]
Plates 2
Knives 6
Forks 3
Spoons 3
Teaspoons 6
Rotary eggwhisk [very good for whipping cream or maccaroons]
Pyrex oven dishes 2
Smaller 1 person pyrex oven dish
Baking sheet
Plastic Clipit tubs 7 [for packed lunches or storing leftovers]
Plastic tupperware tubs 3 [very big round ones for storing opened bags of pasta etc]
Chopsticks
Bamboo sushi mat
Graters
Wooden spoons 1 plus a couple more
Wooden spatula
Serrated knife
Vegetable knife
Chopping board
Plastic/ metal fishslice
Metal shaped cutters
V-slicer
Bowls 3
Small bowls 3
Soy sauce dishes 3
Glasses 4
Mixing bowl
Scales
Measuring jug
Washing up brush
Washing up bowl
Foil
Clingfilm

I should perhaps mention that I need all this stuff because I like cooking, and I like to make ambitious things. Also, I wouldn't recommend all this for a new student, or at least a new cook- my list for first year was a good deal shorter, and most of the above was accumulated over the years. I also wouldn't buy things like the eggwhisk or the bamboo mat now, being on a tight budget, but since I already have them I'll be taking them and they will get a fair bit of use. Unfortunately, I do have to buy some things even in spite of the budget, since the things I've never acquired for myself due to having been able to borrow flatmates' turn out to be the very important things like a knife for chopping vegetables- the only knives I posess are cutlery- and a measuring jug. Then there are things I did have but which broke and I can't do without them- like the bowls. And finally, because we had a system where the three of us took it in turns to cook for each other when I got the pyrex oven dishes, I bought big ones that would feed all of us, and now that I'm likely to be cooking for just myself, I need a much smaller one.

Toiletries

Shampoo
Soap
Toothpaste
Toothbrush
Brush
Deodorant
Flannel
Sun stuff
Make-up
Jewellery
Watch
Hair elastics
Hair pins
Mirror

Clothes

Dressing gown
Slippers
Skirts 10
Jumpers/ cardigans 5-10
Trousers 2 or 3
Vest tops 7-14
T-shirts 5
Bras 4 plus some more
Knickers 20
Tights
Nice tops 5
Dresses 2
Nice skirts 5
Suit [in case of interviews since I'll be applying for graduate recruitment schemes during the year]
Pyjamas 4
Towels 2
Swimming costume
Sheets 2
Duvet covers 2
Pillow cases 4
Duvet
Pillows 2
Shoes- not sure how many yet
Coat
Jacket

This is a lot more sensible and concise than my general approach to taking clothes for university: just pack anything I think I might want to wear. I have high hopes of it all taking up less space this time round...

Miscellaneous

Laptop
Calculus textbook
Notebooks
Old notes from previous time at university (possibly)
Statistics textbooks from this year's attempted self-study
Calculator
Pencil case
Books 5
DVDs
Small portable radio
Rechargeable batteries
Battery charger
Cushions
Deck of cards 2
Recorder (possibly) [as in the long plastic thing with the holes they teach you to play at primary school- sometimes I like to play a tune or two but I'm not sure if it'd annoy all my flatmates]
Origami paper
Sewing things
Origami books 2
Beads, wires, pliers etc for making jewellery
Cookbooks
Futon [in case I have anyone to stay the night- is also nice to sit on folded up]
Bike [I'm hoping to cycle from halls]
Helmet
Reflective gear
Basket
Pump
Printer
Scanner
Camera
Camera charger
Adaptor plug for camera charger [I bought the camera in Japan]
Mobile phone
Mobile phone charger
Wallet
Keys
Diary
Railcard
Everyday bag for going to university
Coasters
Ornaments




Portugal again. Just to brighten things up after that very very long list...

Back to Uni for my Brother

We took my brother up to London today, to get him moved into halls for his second year at Roehampton. This will be the first year that we're both at university at the same time, and my parents will be living by themselves for the first time since I was born, more than 24 years ago. They'll have to do all the washing up themselves now! Though my brother's only 2 and a half years younger than me, he started university five years after I did because I have a spring birthday and he an autumn one* so he's actually three school years below me, then after his GCSEs he did a year long vocational course (in Public Services- for people thinking of going into the police, army, or coastguards) which led him to realise that wasn't what he wanted to do at all, and so decided to do A-levels. Then he was delayed another year because one of his A-level choices, Graphics, turned out to be a bit of a disaster and he started Psychology instead in his second year of A-levels, so it took one more year to finish that. So though I've lived away from home before, at university and when I was in Japan, he was at school or sixth form college all that time, and when he was away last year I was at home- I didn't have the money to go and live by myself, and luckily I get on well with my parents.

There was solid traffic for a long way on the last part of our journey, right up to the university gates and beyond, so we didn't get there till after two. By the time we'd taken all his stuff up to his room, sorted out his insurance, and gone shopping (to give him a couple of extra pairs of hands to help manage the large amount of stuff that's always necessary on the first shop- we would have made things even easier by going in the car but the road was still one long traffic jam, especially in the direction we'd have to come back), it was something like five, and, as I thought would be the case, in the kitchen the fridge space had been entirely staked out and the best cupboards were gone. Not that it bothered my brother that much; he tends to be laid back about things that I would get worked up about, whilst things that I would not even consider could be a problem worry him quite a bit. But I made a mental note to get there early next week and arrive with the necessary to reserve my fair share of fridge and cupboard- because trying to live for nine months without enough space to keep everything cool, and having to keep your pans in your room and cart them down to the kitchen every time you want to cook because they won't fit there is not fun.

It's getting very soon now, and I find it a very strange thought that just a week from now I'll be living with people whom I not only have not as yet met, but whose names, ages, nationalities, genders, and even number I'm not aware of, and yet by the end of the year I won't be able to imagine not knowing them. Sometimes I'm excited, but now it's so close sometimes I'm a little reluctant at the thought of going to live somewhere else and having to re-establish my comfort zone and make new routines and generally put in a lot of effort before everything becomes second nature. But however I feel now, I know that once I've been there a couple of weeks I won't be able to understand how I could live so long back at home, when compared to the relative independance of halls... So though I don't always feel that the prospect is a good one, rationally I know it is, and my rational self explains all that to my emotional side.

First, though, I've got an awfull lot of packing to do...

*11th September in fact, though of course (strange as it is to think now) for the first 17 years of his life the date had no significance except that it was his birthday. Apparently it doesn't really feel wierd to be born on that day- I asked him. My mother works for someone born on 7th July, to take the coincidence a little further. Incidentally, on that memorable 11th September, I was picking up the keys for the first house I ever rented with the friends I was sharing it with, and found out about what had happened when, after a long discussion in our new and very pink rather cold front room about what happened with getting gas and electricity connected and so on, and who needed to do what, one friend got a call on his mobile from someone asking if he'd heard the news, which the friend then passed on to the rest of us. I scarcely believed it till I got back home and found out from the radio and TV and so on. But that's neither here nor there.

Holiday Reading

Yes, pretty uncool. But actually more interesting than it looks.

I'm off to Portugal with my family, and will be taking the opportunity to work through this book. Not all the time of course- I'm also taking things like Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix* and maybe North and South, which I've been meaning to read for a few years. Holidays are a good time for books that start off slow, because without easier ones to pick up instead you're forced to get past the difficult bit, and they're generally then pretty engrossing. Though of course there are exceptions. I'll probably also take L'Empire des Livres which I got a third of the way through before lending it to a friend (not quite sure why I didn't wait till finishing it) and recently got back. Then maybe two more that I haven't chosen yet.


But back to Calculus. Why am I taking a textbook on holiday? (Am I mad?) Well, I have a horrible secret, which is that in spite of achieving a good grade in my undergraduate maths degree, I can't do integration, or really any Methods from Further Maths A-level on (that's why I didn't get an A- though the overall grade was B, the Further Maths parts were a C and a D). For those (probably most of you) who are wondering what integration and Methods are: I won't go into integration here, but suffice it to say that it's something you'd expect anyone with a place on a maths degree, let alone a maths graduate, would be able to do; I have difficulty with it because I can never work out which of the four or so techniques to use (mostly you need a different one for each problem), and with the substitution method I never know what to substitute. Methods is basically what gets called Pure Maths at A-level; it's considered applied maths at university and most people find it much easier than university pure maths; I had to be different.


None of this would matter that much, what with having got my degree and all, except that I have a nasty feeling that the masters is going to involve using Methods a lot in order to solve equations once the statistical principles have been applied. I have frightening visions of me mid-course having triumphantly worked out what bit of statistics to use and then feeling like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over me when I see that I am now confronting a, to me, impossible integral. It seems to make sense to try and get over this Methods block now, rather than having to spend ages at that point trying to remember the stuff I've been taught about integration and then struggling to put it into practice. In any case, I'm not generally a person who's happy with 'can't' as a state of affairs- if I can't do something my first reaction is to try and learn how.**


So I dug out this textbook, which was the set book for a course covering only the material in its last few chapters, but which actually starts with the basics and goes over integration and other usefull stuff right from the beginning. Like all the other books I've come across in the same series, Schaum's Outlines, it has easy to follow explainations (not a lot of proof, which university courses would always include, and which I would want- but as I've covered all the material before I'm now happy just to understand it), and lots of questions, all with answers and quite a few with detailed solutions, so if I don't know how to do a problem I can learn for the next time. And actually, when I get working on it, it is pretty interesting (though I wouldn't want to spend the whole holiday on it!)- untill I come upon something I can't do, when it's just scary! But I'm hoping there won't be much of that.


*Rule No. 1 of being a student: you must develop, or re-develop, a passion for children's books and TV programmes (though I suppose Harry Potter really counts as mainstream). Incidentally, I have Issues with J K Rowling's literary abilities, but it would take too long to go into them here. (See, I am becoming more concise!)


**(This wasn't the case untill about the age of 15- up to then I just happily accepted that I was bad at art, crafts, sport and music, because I was good at enough academic subjects and I felt it had to all balance out- and anyway, I'd been given the impression that you either had it or you didn't with most non-academic subjects- if you had it you'd already know how to do everything without being taught and if you didn't no teaching could help you to improve. My epiphany came too late for sport and music (and in any case I'm not convinced even trying my hardest with those would get me anywhere), but when I suddenly understood that I wasn't putting the effort and the willingness to learn into art and crafts, and corrected that, I did show quite an improvement, and although I was still not that great an artist, I found that I was pretty good at crafts.