The rain's beating really heavily at the windows, so heavily that it sounds like hail (I suppose it could be), and the wind is really gusting. Since I didn't have to go anywhere today, and probably won't have to go anywhere tomorrow, I'm quite enjoying it- it makes me feel cosy being inside, and it sounds interesting and dramatic. A couple of days ago I woke up at 8:30*, and opened my eyes to a bright orange glow. It took a few seconds before I was out of sleep enough to realise that it was the sun, rising behind the trees I can see from my window. It was beautiful, and provided the incentive to stay awake for a whole 30 seconds or so before going back to sleep. It somehow just epitomised this time of year (it would have been even better on the morning of the 21st, as it's kind of what the winter solstice is all about), and I wanted to see it again, so I set my alarm for 8.25 this morning (since the sun is gradually rising earlier again now, and I didn't want to miss it). But I don't know whether it was the weather, or if I was too early or too late, but though it was light I didn't see the sun at all. So I went back to sleep again. And didn't manage to wake up till quarter to one, when Mum called.
Work is going, though I wouldn't say it was going exceptionally well**. I'm just taking a break to write this, but I hope to have the political composition of all the councils entered before I go to bed tonight. Which just leaves three more variables (which hopefully shouldn't take so long) before I can actually get started on the statistics. If I can get to that point by the end of tomorrow, I'll only be 1 day behind schedule, I think- the original plan was to have all the information entered before Christmas, and I was going to visit Ginger between Christmas and New Year, and with that and the visit to my grandparents, only get started on the project again after New Year. But then I found out the visit to Ginger didn't have to be before New Year, and in fact it will now have to be after. Which transfers some of the work on the project from after New Year to before. However, my mental calendar was a bit hazy about how many days December had, so when I stopped to think about it and realised that it has 31, that was one day of work before New Year even under the original schedule, and an extra day under the new one. And then I thought that even if Ginger offers to have me for 2 nights (which is what's happened when I've gone to stay with her before), I'll say I can only do one (much as I'd like to do two) because of the project. So that's one extra day. Thus, allowing for visiting the grandparents on the 27th, that gives the 28th and 29th, ie today and yesterday, to get to the point I should have reached before Christmas. And so if I get there tomorrow I'll be just one day behind. Since I was quite generous in the original plan with the amount of time set aside to write the thing up, and since the plan is to get it done by the 8th when in fact the deadline is the 15th (though the week between the 8th and the 15th is the first week of term so I probably won't have that much time after the 8th), I'm hoping that I'm in fact not too far off track.
I can't wait to get all this data in- the next bit may be quite scary in terms of figuring out what to do, but there's no doubt it's the most interesting part.
As usual, it was just the four of us at home for Christmas- Mum, Dad, my brother and me. But I wouldn't want it any other way- well, I'd want Grandma, who always used to stay from Christmas Eve to Boxing Day, if she was still alive, but what I mean is that I wouldn't want a lot of relations, and I wouldn't want to spend Christmas away from home. Anyway, apart from the absence of Grandma, we did what we always do: the pantomime on Christmas Eve, a custom that started when we were small enough that we needed something to distract us if we weren't to become overexcited, then unpacking stockings on Christmas morning (yes, Father Christmas does still visit even though I'm 24 and my brother's 22), followed by church for Mum, my brother and me, while Dad, who's pretty much an atheist, starts preparing Christmas lunch. I finally decided back in February that I'm an agnostic tending pretty heavily towards atheism, but I went to church anyway, because it wouldn't be Christmas without church, to keep Mum company (though she said she didn't know that she was that religious either and was mostly going because it was Christmas), and because even though I am practically an atheist for logical reasons, believing in God was a habit for so many years that, even if I never believed all that strongly, I find it hard to feel that God doesn't exist even though rationally I know he probably doesn't. Actually, come to think of it, that wasn't a reason why I went to church, but more a description of my feelings when I was there. I had to keep reminding myself I didn't believe in him.
The obligatory sprouts
Anyway, we come back from church, have an hour or two to do whatever (usually have a closer look at the stocking presents, maybe start reading any books that may have been among them) before the lunch gets close enough to ready for it to be time to start clearing and decorating the table. Eat lunch, do washing up (end of which marks the point when all the disagreeable parts of the day (church, lunch (I like the roast potatoes and the battered mushrooms Dad does as a starter, but the rest of it (sprouts, gravy, nut roast, Christmas pudding) is ok but a bit boring- certainly more so than our average lunch) and washing up) are over), go up to sitting room and open presents, sit around not doing much (generally listening to music and reading, but all together for once), watch TV for the rest of the evening, with a break to eat some French bread and cheese- a light supper since lunch was so big, but actually I like it much better than Christmas lunch, especially as we always get in some interesting cheese for Christmas.
So we did all that, and then today we went to visit my grandparents in Greenford. Though I was born in Shrewsbury, grew up in Gloucestershire, and was new to London when I came to UCL (apart from a few day trips a year), I do have London in my blood: my dad was born and grew up there, and his parents have lived there all their lives, and I suppose it must go back quite a few generations on that side. It was nice to see them again- it must be almost a year since we visited. Nana had a knee operation a couple of weeks ago so she's still recovering from that, but I hope in a few months' time it'll make getting around easier for her, though she's having problems at the moment. Grandpa was fine- he always used to be the one with health problems, but now it's the other way round.
Though I love them both, I have to admit that I enjoy Grandpa's company more. He actually listens to what you say which Nana doesn't really- in fact she pretty much monopolises the conversation, changing subject with so little a pause that you often can't get a word in. Still, at least there are no awkward silences with her around! It's a shame that she's not so mobile now- it means they can't come to stay any more, we have to go and visit them if we want to see them. Which means we see them once rather than twice a year- and when they would come to stay it would be for a night or two so we got to see them longer- they haven't of course got room for us to stay when we come. I'm going to try to find time to visit them next term- it's silly being in London and not taking advantage of that.
Mum always makes the Christmas pudding herself, a month or so before Christmas, and we all get to stir it
As for how my project has been progressing, the best I can say is that this year I haven't fallen behind with the thankyou letters but did one yesterday and one today. But the plan is to get A Lot done tomorrow- this does involve getting up early so I can't say I'm all that confident about it coming off, but I will at least try.
I've been up to London again- and managed to cram quite a lot into two hours: two bashes at Christmas shopping, Annie at the NFT, a meal at an Indian restaurant, and a trip to a friend's house where we watched a DVD. The first part was with my brother and Ginger. The train my brother and I travelled in on was half an hour late, which meant a cold wait, but I took the opportunity to make and write Christmas cards for people I'd be seeing the next day, and then once on the train it had to wait 20 minutes at a signal because there was an on time train coming the other way on the single line, and we couldn't delay that by making it wait while we used the single line first. I didn't really mind that because it gave me longer to have a nap. I used to spend train journeys reading, or looking out of the window- really savouring them- but now I seem to consider that a waste of a good chance to have a nap, I'm not quite sure why. And if the train journey takes 2 hours then I can sleep 2 hours, no problem, and feel better for it. Whereas if I'm feeling tired and am not terribly busy and decide to have a nap in bed in the day time (something that really doesn't happen very often at all), if I sleep for 2 hours then I feel ill when I wake up. Maybe it's to do with not being horizontal and wrapped up in the duvet as well as having clothes on when I'm in a train.
It was really foggy on the way from my house to the station, with a light frost, but when I woke up as we were passing Didcot in the train, every tree and bush was a white outline that looked really amazing. It looked like snow, but I'm sure it was just frost.
I texted Ginger to let her know I was going to be late, and suggesting we make it half an hour later instead- even though the train was originally supposed to arrive at 10.30 and we weren't meeting till 12, with the train being 50 minutes late I thought I still wouldn't make it. But in fact, when I got to Tottenham Court Rd it was 12 exactly, and Ginger couldn't get there till 12.30 (I texted her to say I was there already in case she was hanging round in the neighbourhood), not because as we weren't meeting till then she'd set out later, but entirely coincidentally. I'm not sure if that qualifies as irony, or whether it's just the opposite of things working out nicely. We spent the afternoon shopping (I separated from my brother at Paddington and he went off to do his own thing), and Ginger managed to get a DVD and a comic book for her brother, an audio book for her grandma, and a book about farting for her dad, who has that kind of sense of humour, while I got a DVD and a comic book for my brother, and failed to find a couple of things I was looking for for my dad, who for once has actually asked for some things he wants (usually there isn't anything and it's a real struggle buying him presents. Especially since his birthday comes so soon after Christmas). Bizarrely, what he asked for was a lamp that will clip onto a bed head (we saw one in a relative's house back in the spring), and one of those tennis balls on a string on a post that you can hit by yourself. I had no luck at all with the former, but found the latter in Argos- except that it wasn't in stock. So I'm now planning on keeping those for his birthday. The tennis ball on a post I was getting on behalf of Mum anyway.
I also got some re-writable CDs so I can finally get round to backing up my photos and stuff, and a couple of CDs of Christmas music, which were probably an extravagance I shouldn't have gone to- but it was something I'd wanted for several years. One was a CD including five or six songs that you can't escape at this time of year, but which I actually like, like Last Christmas and Fairytale of New York- but unfortunately it wasn't possible to buy them without about 55 other songs spread over 3 CDs. So, as the whole thing cost about £15, it probably worked out at about £3 per song (that I actually wanted), and I would probably have done better to download them from the internet, but there you go. The other was harder- I wanted a folk Christmas CD, based on my parents having played a folk Christmas cassette several years when I was little, but they can't now think what that could have been so I had no name or title to help me. So I wasn't looking for exactly that one, as it seemed impossible, but just something similar. However it seemed after an exhaustive search of HMV that there was no such thing as a folk Christmas CD- till just as we were leaving I spotted something called Winter Harp, which looked promisingly folkish, if the clothes of the people on the front cover were anything to go by. I wasn't sure whether it'd be what I wanted or a complete disappointment, but at £5 I decided to go for it, and am currently listening to it- luckily it turns out to be pretty much what I was after. It doesn't have the song/ tune/ whatever that I remember and really liked, but then that was to be expected, and it does at least have the same kind of sound- and it's good in its own right (though probably not the kind of thing I would listen to out of a Christmas context, even allowing for the fact that it's largely carol based).
We met my brother at Waterloo at 5.30, and walked over to the NFT. Amazingly, in spite of being a film studies student, he's never been to the NFT. Shocking, isn't it. Ginger on the other hand had never seen Annie- my brother and I have seen it quite a few times as we videoed it off the TV ages ago and it was one of the things he used to keep watching, and I'd watch too sometimes. But I hadn't seen it in a long time. I'd forgotten how painfull the singing of the girl playing Annie (Aileen Quinn) is- or else my ears have got more sensitive to in-tune-ness in the interval. Still, Ginger managed to enjoy it in spite of that.
We went for a meal at an Indian restaurant together, which was pretty good, before my brother went back to his halls in Roehampton, and Ginger and I went to my halls near Liverpool St. Somehow we'd managed to get quite tipsy on just two glasses of wine each, and sat up a long time laughing after we got back- to the point where my cheeks started hurting. It's just as well the girl with the room next door to me is back in Hong Kong for the holiday, and most of the others are home too, as we were laughing pretty loudly. It was just like when we were in halls together in First year, and often one of us would pop round to the other's room. Though we did somehow stumble onto a serious topic and lost the laughter rather, spending an hour or so debating free speech, child pornography, and incitement to violence before finally turning in.
We found it quite hard to get up this morning. I set the alarm for 8.30, and kept setting it for another five minutes' doze till 9, when I was going to finally make the big effort to get up, but then I got a text from I, whom we were supposed to be meeting at Bond St at 10, saying she was running 1/2 an hour late, which was just as well. So I had another 10 minutes, and then I was all set to get up again, when Ginger asked if she could use the shower, so I thought I might as well go back to sleep till she'd finished. But we made it out in the end, and got to Bond St in good time- especially as I sent us a text saying she was going to be another 10 minutes late on top of that.
I managed to tick off a lot of boxes this time- a friend, and a good bit of Dad's present, which left me pretty much sorted (which was a relief). And we still had time to wander round Selfridges window shopping expensive stuff (and laughing at how much some of the hair slides and jewellery cost when they looked like something you could find in Boots, or considering how ghastly some of it was), and to have a bite to eat in cafe (we were all quite hungry as we hadn't really had breakfast). We picked up a chocolate Yule log and a bottle of champagne in Marks and Spencer, to have something to take as we were visiting S, then went to Charing Cross where we were supposed to meet S, and two other friends, one who started on the maths course at UCL with us but stopped after a couple of months as she wanted to do Chemistry instead (she came back to UCL the next year to do that), and one that I think S met on the bridging course that was held at UCL for two weeks before we started the maths degree. We were 20 minutes early, they were on time and S was half an hour late, but it was ok because we had a chance to have a good chat. I've never really been close to those other two, and have always been kind of awkward talking to them before, as I didn't know them very well, but today I got on really well with them, which was nice- I'd like to see them again really.
S's house is in Hither Green, so we took a mainline train (and stopped on the way back to get some pizza as a late lunch). It's a flat really, and quite small, but she's actually bought it, rather than renting, which is both impressive and scary. Another friend has also recently bought somewhere, but I haven't visited her there yet, and she bought it with her boyfriend, whereas S bought hers all by herself, so it really is something. It was actually a nice place, in good condition and without any unfortunate interior design, and had a nice sofa and nice blinds that she bought herself.
We watched Breakfast at Tiffany's, and ate pizza and Yule log, but we were actually talking a lot of the time, so didn't follow the plot too well, even with subtitiles on. We did get vaguely what was going on though, and luckily it reached the denouement just in time for us to see it before dashing off to get the train that'd get Ginger to Charing Cross in time for the last coach back to Kent (at the ridiculous hour of 6.30 pm), though we couldn't quite stay to see the end.
We didn't drink the champagne in the end (there was another bottle as well as the one we brought)- or the Bailey's S had. At one point S or someone asked if anyone wanted a drink- Ginger said that would be nice pretty emphatically for her (she's usually very very diplomatic about decisions- too diplomatic really), and S said no, she didn't feel like one either. I thought someone must have spoken at the same time as Ginger saying they didn't want one, and that I hadn't heard them because Ginger was nearer to me, but we were talking about it in the train on the way home afterwards and apparently S must just have misheard. Then I mentioned a little later that it would be nice to have a drink but S apparently didn't hear her. And then a little bit later S said she supposed it all needed drinking so we had better open it and make a start, but we didn't actually get as far as taking any action on that. But I suppose I wasn't too bothered about that- I didn't feel too much like drinking either.
I was telling me in the tube on the way back about the programme she's doing at COMPLEX at UCL (Masters followed by PhD, using maths for biological research), and how it might be suitable for me too- apparently it's possible to focus on statistical approaches though she's just doing mathematical modelling and not using statistics, which, it sounds like, is what most people are doing. Actually she was telling me originally in the cafe in the morning, but she told me more on the tube, It's definitely something to consider. I wouldn't need funding, as they actually pay you a stipend of £16,000- which is not of course a huge amount of money but would probably be enough (after all this year I'm living on £10,000 not including fees).
At Paddington I got another pack of buiscuits for Dad, and an Oyster card- what better present than a 50% saving every time you use public transport in London? Not that he goes to London that often- and I bought Hogfather for myself- more extravagance, that I really should have avoided: I do have a copy, I just can't find it. But I do like to read it at this time of year. It's actually my third copy- I bought one in Japan as I didn't have my copy out there, and left it there when I came back as weight was limited and there was no point in having two. And I got a smoothie because I had a sudden fruit craving (not something that happens all that often). Once again, I slept all the way home.
I got the bus into Cheltenham and met the rest of my family, already there on various errands, for lunch. The bus driver was a bit of a joker: when I asked for a single to Cheltenham, he said "I'm sorry, this is the Birmingham Festival bus". I believed I might have made a mistake when he said "I'm sorry", even though any bus that stopped at my stop would go to Cheltenham, as I hadn't had time to think, but when he got to the bit about Birmingham I knew he was joking (the passengers in the front seats giggling was another clue) so I joined in and said "Alright, I'll go to Birmingham then" When I told mum about it, she said he was probably flirting with me, and that the deadpan cobblers had been too. I'm not quite sure about that- they seemed more like people who just like having a joke, and in any case today I hadn't washed my hair so I wasn't exactly looking my best and you'd think that would put people off. But I'm handicapped by not being able to tell when people are flirting with me- this could explain why I've been single for the past six years. So maybe she's right.
We went to an Italian restaurant by the bus terminus that my brother's been wanting to try for years, since he used to pass it every day on his way to sixth form college. The food was very nice, but I regretted having a starter- I couldn't finish all my main course (tagliatelle with vegetables in a creamy tomato sauce), and for once it was nicer than the starter (deep fried breaded mozzarella sandwich). Even though we usually eat together at home (when we're all in), it's nice eating out together- it feels like more of an occasion, and everybody's usually relaxed and in a better mood, so we have more of a laugh.
Dad didn't hang around to do any shopping afterwards- I think he's got most of (maybe even all of) his presents already. Since Mum, by long tradition dating from the time when he worked and she stayed at home and looked after me and my brother, but probably more because she's better at deciding what people would like, buys all the presents for family friends, relations, and my brother and me, he only has to buy presents for her, so I suppose that's not so time-consuming. And as he now works freelance from home, he's had plenty of opportunity to get them. So my brother went round the shops with me and Mum. I didn't really get any presents myself- I didn't think I would- but I helped Mum with the decision process. My brother also chipped in, not quite so helpfully, and waited patiently for us to get to the shop Mum had recommended to him in his search for a coat (it was where she got hers).
The Promenade, Cheltenham, with Christmas lights
It seemed to be a very long afternoon. We went round quite a few shops before getting to that point where you lose your critical faculty to a certain extent and just decide that someone will probably like the thing you've just picked up, based on some tenuous connection to their lifestyle. We even wrapped a present in the post office- with newly bought paper and sellotape but without the use of scissors*- so it could be in time for the last posting day. By the end, I was quite fed up of walking round, standing still and looking at things- and very sick of the shopping bags. I'd got some wrapping paper and some gold and silver paper, as well as carrying some of Mum's presents. Then we had to walk a long way to the car, because Mum always parks quite far out, which is great from a not-having-to-pay-for-parking point of view, but not so good in terms of getting back to it after a long day's shopping. I wouldn't mind walking that distance ordinarily, but with heavy bags on feet that have spent hours walking, and worse, standing still, and with in addition a pair of tights that are trying their best to fall down...
We decorated the Christmas tree this evening. Normally this is a job that starts in the daylight, with the bringing in of the tree and the prolonged process of setting it up on a coffee table, or in recent years a low chest that we acquired some time ago, as a plinth (sounds simple, but of course takes up to an hour). But we did this part on Sunday (I think it was), and got as far as putting the lights on (which we do first) before managing to break them. So it was postponed till (a) we could get some more and (b) the next evening thereafter that Mum was in. The new lights turned out not to be numerous enough to go round the tree very many times. We were planning to get some more to supplement them (though not this time to postpone the decorating till this had been done), but then Dad found some replacement bulbs in the box of the old ones- which we'd been going to throw away as no longer necessary since the lights were now useless- and managed to mend the first lot of lighrts using them, so we just used those, with the new set. Why had we not just gone for replacement bulbs in the first place, rather than a whole new set? (What wastefull times we live in, etc etc)
Breaking the Lights: Long version While putting the lights round the tree on the first occasion (Sunday**), we found that they didn't come on when the switch was switched***. This in spite of their having spent the past year working perfectly while stretched round the walls near the ceiling (last year we couldn't face totally getting rid of their bright-and-cheerfullness after Christmas was over, while winter was still dark and cold and very much with us). We tried pushing all the bulbs in firmly, but nothing. We were just giving up and unwinding them again, with the intention of getting a new set, when, a couple of coils before the bottom of the tree, they suddenly came on. Dad went over them and got them sorted, but there were about four bulbs that weren't on (though the filament looked intact. I'd been volunteering throughout to get replacement bulbs, and as we put them back on the tree, they finally agreed- they'd been unsure that you could get replacement bulbs, for some reason, and also wondered how I'd work out which ones to get (I think we hadn't come upon the box at this point). Dad took one of the bulbs out for me to take with me so I could get the right kind, as I'd suggested. Or rather, he tried to. Instead of the bulb pulling out, the glass came away from the plastic base, and the lights all went out again. I thought this was just due to an accident, and that all it needed was one more replacement bulb than before, but my parents apparently thought that this meant the bulbs were not removeable, and thus that I could not get replacements. I was convinced that in fact I could, that I'd seen them before, but I could see that I wasn't going to persuade my parents of this- when I tried, tentatively, Mum pointed out that when Dad had just tried to remove a bulb it had broken. So I just thought fine, new lights then. But of course, when we found the replacement bulbs in the box it showed that they were supposed to be removeable and Dad then had another go at it.
The project has been going fairly well. In order to measure left-right political leaning among the residents of the local authorities, I have been compiling a list of how many seats on each council are held by each political party. I found a list which had this information for each council all in one place, but it only listed separate figures for the Conservatives, Labour, the Lib Dems and the Greens- all other parties were lumped together under 'Other'. So I was looking at each council's website to find out whether any of the 'Other' was easily left-right classifiable things like the BNP, or whether it was all the unknowable Independent, in the process of which I discovered that the big list wasn't 100% accurate- which in fact it didn't claim to be, since it was based on election results and didn't take account of things like defections of already elected councillors from one party to another. So I was looking up the information on the individual council websites for every single council.
This was of course taking a Very Long Time. In two days of work (not two solid days, I admit, more like one day's proper work), I'd got down to D in my list. So I had to decide this was impractical in terms of time (I want to have all the data stored in readily usable form before Christmas- and I'm going to be away most of Thursday and Friday, and want to tidy my room on Saturday, and don't want to work on Christmas Eve...). I decided it didn't matter about the inaccuracy of the big list- after all, it was based on what people voted for, and that was what I was interested in, not what the elected people decided to do afterwards. The lumping together of other parties was more problematic. If it's just one or two seats- maybe even as many as 10- it's not too bad, but in some cases something like half the seats are occupied by 'Other'. So I've decided I'll look up those ones on the council websites- say any council where 25% or more of the seats are 'Other'. Of course, they may well turn out to be Independent in which case I still don't know if they're left or right, but at least I've tried. The other councils I'll just treat those seats as 'unknown' in left-right terms- even if, had I looked, I would have found they were all occupied by a coalition of UKIP and the BNP. This of course is somewhat flawed. But I shall point this out in my write-up, so that's ok (I hope).
It's quite a relief to be able to give up (most of the) wrestling with council websites. Some of them very obligingly had an easy-to-find table of how many seats were held by each party. Some had a not so easy to find table. Far too many had no table at all, but let you list the councillors by party so you could count them all. These were not the most annoying ones. Quite a few didn't let you do that, so you had to pick out and count up the parties from an alphabetical list of councillors + addresses + political affiliations. These were also not the most annoying ones. The process could be made easier by using Find... The most annoying ones were the ones that had a similar list, but a coloured block or logo instead of the party in word form- they of course had to be counted by hand. Strangely the ones that just refused to mention political party at all weren't the most aggravating- for those I felt entitled to just give up and use the details from the big list.
*I made a very sharp crease in the paper, and slit along it with my LSE ID card (which was the first one I pulled out of my wallet). Normally, I wouldn't bother with the card bit- but the paper was quite thin, as wrapping paper tends to be, and wasn't tearing nicely by hand
**Probably
***The sitting room has a socket that's operated by a wall switch on the other side of the room, by the door (and no overhead light operated by a wall switch or otherwise- well, it's an old house). We always plug the Christmas tree lights into that one- partly because it's nearest to the tree (always a good basis for picking a given socket) and partly because this makes it easy to turn the lights on and off when you go in and out of the room
The view from our kitchen window in halls. Annoying not because it makes a loud noise, or because it's an eyesore, but because when they finish the view will be worse- a metre or so onto a building. At least at the moment the view has distance. I'm hoping they won't be done before the summer- but I pity the poor people who come next.
I checked my email on Wednesday evening to find an invitation to the joint birthday party of CMCC and EMCC, who turn out to have consecutive birthdays, which was to be the very next day (the email was actually sent on Monday). I replied that I was sorry I couldn't make it as I was already back home. But when I was trying to get to sleep that night, I suddenly realised how much I wanted to go, and decided that it was worth going down to London specially (and the associated train fare).
Then the matter of presents occurred to me and I thought I wouldn't be able to go because I couldn't think of anything to get them (I always struggle buying presents for men). But after some racking of the brains, I recalled the idea I had been going to put in the Ethical Christmas leaflet I had been going to do for the People and Planet end of term mulled wine and mince pies stall, when we had been going to have one (it didn't happen in the end): amongst other ethical present ideas, I had included grow-your-own-herbs (which is ethical because it saves on fuel transporting the ready grown versions). What with them both being Green Party bods, and everyone liking basil, I thought that, if it wasn't necessarily just what they always wanted, it was at least not a what-were-you-thinking? present.
I got up early the next day (without even adjusting my alarm clock to reflect my change of plans!) to check with Mum that it was ok my going to the party- it would mean my missing her brass band playing carols and Christmas music outside a supermarket that evening. But she was happy for me to go, and said that actually there wouldn't be many of them that evening, so they would probably just play carols- the following evening would be better. Actually, I lay awake for a bit before getting up and asking her trying to decide whether the party really was worth getting up and all the hassle of getting the present and going into London. It was quite a close thing at several points but in the end I did it.
Later that morning I went into Bourton, a nearby very very small town and summer tourist trap, to buy plant pots and seeds from the garden centre/ pet food suppliers/ agricultural store. Sadly they didn't have basil; they had coriander, which I had also been going to do, but apart from that it was just boring things like parsley. So I just got the coriander, and had a look once back home to see if it was my basil or my coriander seeds that I left behind when I went to university. It was the coriander, of course. But I found my oregano and decided that would do. I scooped compost into the flower pots and planted a pot each of oregano and coriander for each of them, and while I was at it I also planted some peas which I brought back from London but never actually used, and which were now sprouting. I packed the pots in two empty cardboard boxes of bottles of beer, and put those in two carrier bags (Co-op, for that extra ethical touch).
In London, I'd planned to go to a cafe while killing time before the party started, and write some letters that needed doing, and the completion of which I had made a condition of allowing myself to come, and then change in the loos. But actually there wasn't that much time, and the cafe I'd been going to go to turned out not to have any loos, so instead I went to LSE (since the cafe was right by there) and changed in that same handy loo I used before the President of People and Planet's party. In the process, I realised that I had forgotten to bring any light coloured tights- the ones I was wearing were green and really didn't go. So I popped into Tesco's on my way to the party, though I realised I wouldn't have a chance to change them untill after I arrived.
I walked over Waterloo Bridge in an unexplainable state of elation- maybe it was something to do with how amazing all the lights looked, in either direction?- and got to Waterloo station about five minutes before the start time for the party. I decided to go inside and sit down to write some brief instructions for looking after the herbs, as I wasn't sure how much experience either of them had of growing things, and I also didn't want to get there right from the very beginning in case they hadn't yet turned up themselves.
I reached Cubana's, where the party was to be*, at about 5.40. I went in and had a good look round, but couldn't find them anywhere, so asked one of the waiters if there was a booking in either of their names- I wasn't sure they had booked but thought it worth asking. There wasn't, so I hung around waiting, in the course of which I heard a few parties get turned away, and got asked if I had a booking a couple of times by waiters. I decided I was in the way so went to wait outside the door- there was only one so there was no danger of missing them. However as I waited I did begin to be concerned that the venue might have changed, and I was just trying to decide which email-checking strategy would be best in terms of time and money: walking to LSE, taking a bus to LSE, or finding a local internet cafe, when I saw the two of them approaching with another guy that I'd vaguely seen around but never really met (who turned out to be one of CMCC's housemates).
I warned them we might be turned away, but said it was worth trying anyway- but indeed we were. This of course was quite a problem as everyone was going to come there. They had to text many many people from another bar where we went instead- and they didn't actually have the phone number of everyone who was invited.
When they seemed to be through texting people, I handed over the presents (and a Christmas card for EMCC, who wasn't at the President of People and Planet's party). They seemed to go down well- either that or they're both good actors, but anyway, I was satisfied with the response. In fact only one other person brought anything, so maybe it wasn't the kind of birthday party where you do bring presents- actually no-one apart from me brought anything to the President of People and Planet's either- maybe it's just not the done thing in this social group- but it's definitely better to be on the safe side: I would have hated to be the only person not to bring anything.
The presents and everybody's coats and bags made quite a large pile in front of the bar, which I was quite concerned about, and businessmen were having to make their way through with difficulty. One of them, not your stereotypical businessman, made some comment to me about the size of the pile, something about presents, and though I was rather wary- men striking up conversations with women in bars tend to be after something rather specific, we actually had a rather interesting conversation, mostly about careers in statistics since he asked me what I did, and when I explained I was a student, what I wanted to do. I was worried throughout that I wouldn't get away without giving my number (which I didn't really want to do- though he seemed nice enough, I'm not convinced that meeting people in bars rather than being introduced to them by mutual friends is really safe (many serial killers have seemed like perfectly nice people, I'm sure, and whilst the percentage of the population who are serial killers is small enough that the risk is tiny, and while a serial killer can equally well be a friend of a friend, somehow it just seems unwise). This despite the fact that a distant cousin met her husband in a karaoke bar), but in fact he didn't ask for it and after a while said he needed to be getting back to his friends. Maybe he decided after talking to me a bit that he didn't like me after all; maybe my being a student put him off; maybe he was never interested in anything more than a short conversation, but anyway I found it quite refreshing. I'd be a lot more willing to talk to new people if I thought they weren't going to expect anything at the end of it.
People arrived gradually, and eventually the crowd in the bar thinned out enough for us to get a table to sit round (it was mostly people having a drink after work), but it was kind of a serial party in a way- though maybe thirty or even forty people came, there were never more than 15 there at a time as most people didn't stay for more than an hour or two. Some people, like the President of People and Planet, I knew; others, like a Beaver reporter who'd been in the Sutherland protest, the Students' Union Treasurer, and the Students' Union Education and Welfare Officer, I knew by name, but had talked to a couple of times at most.
After we got the table, a few of us ordered some food. I hadn't eaten before I'd come because I knew Cubana's did food, and as it was starting at 5.30, I took that to mean that we'd have something, if only bar snacks. I felt a bit greedy though with only one or two others eating. The sun dried tomato and olive burger that I had was amazing though and possibly the best bit of the party- which I'd been concluding had perhaps not been quite worth the trip after all. It was quite good, just not brilliant. There were quite long periods of time when everyone around me appeared to be engaged in conversations that were just too far away from me for me to be able to hear and join in.
After that bar, at 11 or so, we went to a place in Soho that did cocktails that were nice but expensive. As I was queueing at the bar, a bloke next to me said 'You all right, then?' Though the tone of voice suggested it was someone who knew me, I didn't recognise the voice itself and was sure I didn't know them. Since the voice also sounded quite drunk, and since nothing good can come of a conversation that starts that way, I pretended I hadn't heard, and the voice repeated what it had said a few times. Sadly, he didn't take the hint of my continued non-response, but decided instead to compliment me on my ignoring skills, and waved a hand up and down in front of me. After a bit, I found it difficult to keep my mouth straight, not because I was enjoying the situation, but because there is something about flouting conversational rules or social conventions that just brings on a giggle reflex- like when you deliberately turn your back on someone when talking to them. I suppose it's an evolutionary or at least beneficial trait- going against the rules can look like (and often is) a snub, and giggling takes the edge of that thus possibly averting the wrath of an armed and dangerous snubbed person. But I digress. The bloke said 'You're smirking. I can see you in the mirror', I carried on ignoring him, and eventually got served and walked away without having so much as looked at him (though kicking myself inside for having spoiled it rather with the smirking).
We stayed in the bar till about 1, by which point there were only six or so of us left, then made our way towards Trafalgar Square (via a fried chicken place for some of them) where we parted. Walking from there to the Strand, to catch a bus, another bloke asked me 'All right, darling?', which I was particularly annoyed about. I mean, with the bloke in the bar, at least there was a vague logic to it- bars are a place that some women do go to meet people. It still doesn't justify his persistence when I clearly wasn't interested, and it still doesn't stop me disliking him for opening the conversation (if you can call it that) like that in the first place, but you can see why it would make sense to him that that would be a good thing to do, even though it wasn't. But with the bloke in the street, in order to believe that was the right thing to do he'd have to have somehow got the idea that there was a curfew of non-nymphomaniac women. In any case, even supposing I was looking for a one night stand, how any man could think that a conversation opener like that is going to dazzle me with their suitability as a partner for the evening, I don't know. I mean, couldn't they put a bit more effort into it? I actually think it's worse than such cringeworthy offerings as 'Get your coat, love, you've pulled' Still totally repellent (what with the underlying assumption that their interest in you is just what you've been hoping for), and still completely unoriginal, but at least it has comedy value, when you tell your friends later that someone actually said that, and you can't deny that, while not that interesting, it is at least more interesting than 'All right, darling?' The man in the first bar had the right approach, though. Even though he too was drunk (not obviously, staggering and making no sense drunk, the kind where you're not sure untill the person themself mentions it), he still opened the conversation with a relevant and natural remark, giving the impression, even if it wasn't true, that he wouldn't have said anything if he didn't have that to say, and that he wasn't intending to start a conversation at all costs. If I did go home with men that I met in bars, that'd be the kind of man I met in a bar that I'd go home with.
I made it back to halls eventually, at about 2. Since my halls are 40 (or so) week lets, and we are thus paying over Christmas and Easter, I'm able to spend a night there in the holidays whenever I need to. It also means I didn't have to bring everything home with me at the end of term (though of course on the down side it's more expensive).
Though I haven't thought of him since the end of term, totally out of the blue I had another 'interesting' dream about K that night. It was quite chaste though- a lot of putting my head on his chest, for some reason, a kiss, and a lot of wanting another kiss and being worried that he was going to get bored of me and go away. Of course, the K in my dreams is different from the real K- for one thing, I don't really know what the real K is like, since I haven't had a chance to get to know him properly, but have mostly been trying to get computers to do what they're told in the time I've spent in his company. So though I enjoyed the dream, it doesn't mean that I now want the real K (though I suppose in the hypothetical situation of him asking me out, which is of course not actually likely to happen, I would take that opportunity to get to know him).
I got to Paddington about ten minutes after one train and nearly two hours before the next. Which was annoying, but I did sit down and get those letters done. And took them to the post office and posted them.
On the train I realised that my Young Person's Railcard, with my ticket in it, was no longer in my bag. So very annoyingly I had to buy another ticket, and of course at full fare this time. I'm not quite sure where I lost it, but I hope someone hands it in at a station, because I don't want to have to pay for another- besides losing another as yet unused return portion.
I was going to get all the remaining data for my project today, but actually in the event did no work at all. So that's now tomorrow's plan. I did go and get my brother from the station- he's home for the holidays now.
*It was the same place the People and Planet had their end of term meal
Rooftops of Cheltenham, view from Regent's Arcade car park
I went Christmas shopping yesterday. Dad was going shopping himself because they were cutting off the electricity for the morning (to do some maintenance, I think) so it seemed like a sensible time to be out doing that, and he offered me a lift. I had things I needed to do in town, so I was happy to seize this opportunity. One of those things was getting my shoes re-heeled. Yes, those shoes I got not so many weeks ago, and which I've been alternating with another pair to ease the strain, have already worn down to the internal plastic in a couple of places. I suppose they weren't really meant to be worn every day. The man at the re-heeling place said "It'll be £50, is that all right? But don't worry," he added with a wink, "that includes our tip". I wasn't really happy about paying so much- it was certainly more than I expected and I could have bought the same pair of shoes again for that, besides the strain on the old student budget. But they were unlikely to still be in stock and I didn't fancy another epic struggle to find a pair I liked so I said fine, and hoped that the re-heeling job would be done with tougher stuff than had been on them in the first place, so I wouldn't have to fork out again. When I came back to collect them, I was charged £6.99. Evidently they had a great line in deadpan humour. But as Dad pointed out when I was telling him later, they must lose quite a few customers that way- unless they turn round and tell anyone who says 'Erm, actually, perhaps I won't get my shoes re-heeled after all', 'Lighten up, darling, we were only joking' or similar. In fact, I didn't get round to handing the shoes over for re-heeling in the first place till about 11- I had assumed they'd need a few days to do it and was pleasantly surprised to find it'd only take half an hour (in contrast to the not so pleasant surprise of the advertised price), so I thought it didn't really matter when I took them in. Luckily there was in fact exactly half an hour till I was supposed to be meeting Dad so I was able to pop back for them just after we met up. Before all that, I took a leisurely wander round, got a few Christmas presents, including Lolita for my brother- I'm not sure he'll like it, it's not the kind of thing he usually reads (he likes Clive Cussler), but he's studying creative writing so I thought it couldn't hurt to be taking in something well written, in what is hopefully a not too hard to swallow form. And I can't think of anyone in the whole history of English literature with more of a way with words than Nabokov- no-one I've read anyway. I also got Brokeback Mountain for Ginger- it was only £7.99 so affordable, and I believe she liked it, I just hope no-one's already given it to her. Given her great dislike of Christmas films and what else was on offer, I'll be able to make a joke (inside the gift tag: "I wasn't going to get you a DVD but then I saw Jingle all the Way for £5.99..."; on a post it note on the DVD itself: "...so I got you Brokeback Mountain") which I consider worth the risk she already has it- it's not that great, I know, but I think she'll laugh. And I think she'll really believe I got her Jingle all the Way for long enough for her to open the present and find the next note, even though of course if I had I wouldn't have written it on the gift tag. We always open our Christmas presents to each other when we give them rather than taking them home and saving them for Christmas, so it doesn't have to survive days of speculation. I wandered around a couple of healthfood stores in the Regent Arcade, picking up a not-so-healthy box of chocolate coated ginger for Mum, and some rice crackers for myself, and looking at all the interesting substitute products like vegetarian bacon and vegan cheese and thinking that it would be interesting to try them, but only if one had a back-up meal ready in case they turned out not to be finishable (not necessarily due to being disgusting- in the case of meat substitutes just being too realistic would be enough to do it for me). I had a vague memory of there being important things I was going to do that had meant I was so happy to have the opportunity of a lift into town. After a bit of mental searching, I decided that they'd simply consisted of getting the shoes re-heeled, and getting a few Christmas presents. It was some time after we got home (after lunch in Bella Pasta) that I recalled I'd been going to pay in a cheque from Mum that I've had for a few weeks, pay a £100 penalty to Inland Revenue that I've also had for a week or two (long story that I shall go into some other time; it's mostly my fault but a tiny bit theirs, and it's due to disorganisation and fear on my part rather than my having set out with the intention not to pay my tax if at all possible, not that that really makes it a whole lot better. I am a very bad person), and get an optical mouse as a Christmas present for my brother on behalf of my mother, since I have more time than her and probably know more what I'm talking about when it comes to computers. So I will now need to take another trip into town in the near future. The electricity still wasn't on when we got back. Instead of going downstairs to sit in front of the Aga, which would have been the sensible option, for some reason I sat reading in my room with my very warm coat on and a fleece top spread over my knees. Some time after it came back on I managed to get up the motivation to go and do some work. Having also done a tiny bit today (less than an hour; in spite of good intentions and in spite of having been in bed so long that my side hurt and I was having annoying dreams, I didn't get up till about 3pm today), I am now in the position of having transferred my first few variables of data from the internet. (At this point it might be worth my mentioning, in case I haven't already, that my project involves studying, across all the local authorities in England*, that is getting one number for each of these variables for each local authority, the percentage of waste recycled by households and seeing how it's related to the percentage composted, the weight produced per household, the percentage of the population within 1 km of a recycling centre or having a doorstop collection service, the age composition for the authority, the social class structure or income (not quite sure how I'm going to be measuring that one yet), the voting pattern at the last local election, and the rurality/ urbanity** of the local authority). I still have to do a few more variables, from other websites and also some more that I can get from the same one, the hardest of which is going to be rurality as that is only measured for smaller areas than I am using, so I have to identify which small areas make up my big areas (not too hard- I believe that information was included in the same table) and then devise a way of combining the measures of each little area into some sensible measure of rurality for the big area, probably also involving the population of each little area (not, I believe, in the same table). This is pretty hard as I am not a social scientist and have never studied any social sciences, so the potential for my coming up with something daft and meaningless is pretty high. My most likely candidate at the moment is looking like 'Percentage of the population living in areas classed as X or higher' where X is one of the categories; I can't remember what they were exactly but they included things like semi-urban and so on, I believe. Even if I go with that, I have to decide what X is, of course, which isn't just a matter of picking a category that sounds right: I have to choose one that will give a good range for this measure (I assume): otherwise it will be hard to see what effect it has on my main variable. So I will be pressing on with all of that in the days to come, and then I can actually get down to making some findings! Meanwhile, I've been eating far more of those chocolate mini bites than is good for me, even when I promise myself that I won't have any more the same day. *I really do mean England, before I get any angry Scots or Welsh shouting at me :-) - and that's nothing to do with choice, it's just where the data I found happened to be for **[Warning: terrible joke coming up] No, that's not how suave or sophisticated it is
I came back home yesterday. Flatmate 7 came with me, because she wanted to see the English countryside, I think, and maybe also because she wanted to see an English family in an English home. It was really hard waking up in time for the train, after only a couple of hours' sleep, and I think if I hadn't arranged with Flatmate 7 to leave at a certain time I wouldn't have left enough time to get to Paddington and catch the train, and would have had to apologise to my parents and ask them to collect me later- so it's a good thing she was coming too. As it was, I tried to stay awake as I postponed the moment of getting out of bed by reading an article in G2, but kept dropping off, and didn't have time to make the breakfast I'd been looking forward to- using up the leftover cheesy filling from last night in a toast sandwich with some of the salsa- and had to make do with nothing instead.
Mum collected us from the station and we stopped in Stow and Bourton on the way home. Mum looked for some Christmas presents that needed to be bought and wrapped in time to get there by post, while I showed Candice what there was to see (not huge amounts, but enough to fill 10 or 15 minutes). It was pretty cold, and I was sorry I'd left my nice big warm coat at home last weekend (so as not to have that to carry as well as everything else: I anticipated having a lot of stuff and indeed I had my massive suitcase that you couldn't move if it wasn't for the wheels, two shoulder bags (admittedly only carrying one shoulder bag's worth of stuff), my white satin small cylindrical bag that I got in Japan, and my laptop bag). I spent the entire time wishing it would be over so we could get back in the warm car, which is probably not the most effective frame of mind in which to show someone around. If it had been warmer maybe it would have been nice to do more aimless strolling and more stopping for photos- I hope she got all the pictures she wanted. I suppose it was also hard for me because as far as I'm concerned these places may be quite pretty but they have very little of interest and they're not going anywhere so I can wander down there any time I like. It's hard to put myself in the position of someone who has never seen buildings or villages/ small towns like this before and will have to make a real effort to see them again.
The visit was not as awkward as I'd feared. I was worried about awkward silences (even though I think people should be able to spend time together in silence, or doing things like reading or whatever, because you can still appreciate people's company like that, I worry about awkward silences), but actually there weren't too many. We had a cup of tea before lunch in the kitchen with my parents, then we all had lunch together- my brother, who'd been keeping Millie, his dog, out of the way, joined us, then we had more tea and spent more time talking, and at one point I got some manga books from my room to show her- and we did sit and read in silence for a while (she initiated it, not me!). So retrospectively, what I'm most worried about is that Millie bothered her- we tried to stop her from nosing Flatmate 7 and her bag, and from jumping up at her, but weren't entirely successfull; I would have suggested shutting Millie away but I thought (though I wasn't sure) that Flatmate 7 wanted to see her- and about a time in the afternoon when we were sitting upstairs in the sitting room with the fire, just her and me and my dad, and I spent quite a time arguing with him, in a light hearted way but annoying him slightly, about whether you could have a tornado so small it didn't suck anything up and other things- I was doing it because I was nervous that if I stopped there would be a big silence that I didn't know how to break, but of course she didn't really say anything during that and it did go on a while. I hope we didn't bore her.
She went back on the same train as my brother, at a little past 5. We got there 10 minutes early and the train was 10 minutes late. I went over the bridge with them and settled down in the waiting room for a chilly 20 minutes, but soon after I'd sat down she said I didn't have to wait if I wanted to get back. I did a bit of 'Are you sure?', but I accepted before I should have done (and indeed maybe otherwise I would have stayed), because I hadn't been to the loo before we left and quite needed to get back home.
I spent a quiet evening on the sofa with my parents watching TV. Mum and I both fell asleep in Men in Black 2. This was not surprising in Mum's case- she often, or fairly often, falls asleep while we're watching TV anyway, and she's a bit ill at the moment with a sore throat. But I hardly ever do, and was enjoying the film- I was just so tired.
I slept till nearly 3 today, even though I didn't feel that tired when my alarm went off at 9.30, or when I reset it for 10, 10.30, 11, 11.30 and 12. I just couldn't resist taking the opportunity to sleep as late as I could for once. Of course, I didn't then do any work- I had a very late lunch, after burrowing my arm deep into my massive suitcase to retrieve the jar of red pesto I'd brought back with me, along with two other jars of stir in pasta sauce and five tins of soup. Then I did Sleek (our cat)'s litter tray- it has to be put out on Mondays because the bin men come on Tuesdays, and I usually do it on Sundays (as does my dad who does it for me when I'm away) so Dad can take it out when he walks Millie on Monday, but was really tired yesterday, so planned to do it this morning, then forgot I'd planned that when the alarm went off. So I had to take it out in the almost dark, but at least there was still a very very little light. Then I did the washing up, then I did nothing for an hour, then I watched the Simpsons, then I came downstairs again to listen to I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue, halfway through which it was supper time, then I read newspapers for an hour or so while I put off doing the washing up (and let the supper go down- after all I'd eaten it quite soon after having lunch), then I actually did the washing up, then I went and watched TV with Dad (Mum was out at the Christmas meal of the band she plays in on Mondays), then I came down again and waited for Mum to get home (while checking my email- it turns out that I am near the end of the schedule for the presentations for Surveys and Experiment Design, which is bad as I will probably be exhausted again and run the risk of oversleeping- must make sure that doesn't happen, but good because it gives me more time to think about it (though I still intend to get it practically prepared over Christmas)- and get hints from what other people have done). Then I made Mum a hot drink and did a puzzle with her- we often do that after she comes home from one of her bands or other evening things.
This is basically pretty much my holiday routine. I'm going into all the detail this time, but then hopefully I won't have to go through it all every day but just mention the interesting parts. Though I'm hoping that in future the first part of the day will involve getting up considerably earlier (actually in the morning, for a start), and doing some WORK.
After weeks of anticipating what I'd write on the Principles and Methods feedback questionnaire at the end of term, when overcome with frustration by the teaching, I overslept and didn't make it to that lecture. I imagine that others will have made the same comments, assuming they made it out of bed... I went into college anyway, since I was meeting Ginger at 2 at Holborn tube station, and had lunch in the Brunch Bowl for the last time of term. I then popped into the Union shop where I got a stuffed toy beaver, as a present for Ginger (though I didn't give it to her this time as I'll be seeing her again before Christmas). They sell them because the beaver figures on the LSE coat of arms (hence the title of the student newspaper I assume), and I'm giving it to her because she finds the word 'beaver' very funny*
Ginger and I had a long debate about what to go and see at the cinema, or whether to just go Christmas shopping. It was the one part I hadn't got all mapped out- I knew I wanted to go back to Oh! Bar in Camden for some food and a Jaffa Cake in the evening, and then come back to halls in time to watch Chicago (my favourite film and one Ginger also likes a lot; we saw it when I went to visit her in Cologne, and last year I got her the soundtrack for Christmas), with maybe a bottle of wine, and then either after that or the next day listen to Crystal Gayle- Ginger had the CD and we used to listen to it whenever I went round to her room in First year, over hot chocolate (when she wasn't singing me Scottish folk songs...). Her favourite song was 'Somebody loves you' because her mum used to sing it to her when she was little but I liked a song that I always called 'Suitcase' because at first that was all I picked out/ remembered of it, but which was actually called River Road, and we used to listen to that one a lot- actually I referred to the whole CD by that name and Ginger came to follow suit. If we were a couple, that would be our song, simply because it brings back memories of spending time together in her room in First year. Then in Third year (or Fourth year?) she bought me a copy, so now I have it on my computer.
Anyway, we had quite a discussion about the plans for the afternoon. It started outside Holborn tube and then adjourned to a cafe on Holborn where it continued over cups of tea. We had bought the Evening Standard for the cinema listings, and found out what was on. There didn't seem to be much other than Christmas films, which I like but Ginger isn't keen on. I wanted to go and see Happy Feet (that is to say, out of all the options, I wanted to go and see Happy Feet), but Ginger thought it would be awfull. Then after we resumed the conversation in the cafe, Ginger was saying ok, she'd go and see Happy Feet, and I was saying no, we shouldn't because she wouldn't enjoy it. She finally convinced me by saying she was all psyched up to see it now. It was three o'clock, and the film started at 3.30, in Wood Green, so we thought we'd maybe miss the adverts but be in time for the trailers- after all it was just straight up on the Piccadilly line from Holborn, and wasn't that long a journey. But on the way to Holborn station we met a man who said there was a fire there and it was shut. So we made for Russell Square, only we missed it so pressed on to King's Cross. When we got there it was about 3.25 though so we realised we weren't going to be in Wood Green for 3.30. We pulled out the Evening Standard and had a rethink. Luckily there was a 4.00 showing in Islington, which was close enough that even walking we were there in time. This was fortunate as en route Ginger was recalling at least two occasions with other friends when they'd gone from cinema to cinema trying to make different showings and just missing them, and it had involved something like four different cinemas each time.
Happy Feet was interesting. Strangely, where I found it hard to suspend my disbelief was not over the idea that penguins sing to each other in order to court, or that they can talk and tap dance, but that if people saw penguins tap dancing en masse they would not only decide that the penguins were trying to tell them something, but that they would instantly work out that it could only be that the humans were depleting the penguins' fish stocks, and that the UN would then spend five minutes discussing the matter before just deciding to stop fishing operations. Still, I don't regret seeing it, and Ginger said that she didn't either though she was very baffled.
Oh! Bar was good, as I had anticipated. Of course we knew that the cocktails were nice (we only had one between us this time, a Jaffa Cake), and that the ambience or atmosphere or decor or whatever was pleasant too, but we hadn't tried the food before, and that turned out to be very nice too.
We bought a bottle of wine on the way home, but once back had great problems opening it. I borrowed the really pathetic corkscrew that belongs to one of my flatmates again, and this time not only did it fail to budge the cork, it eventually snapped in two, one part still buried in the cork. This time, no cunning fork action did the trick- forks just shredded the cork. I can't remember whose idea it was, so I'll say it was Ginger's, but we used my sharp vegetable knife to stab right through the cork- actually I think it was Ginger's idea, and she meant for me just to use it to dig some of the cork out but I misunderstood. Once through, I tried to pull it out again but it was stuck fast and for a while it looked like it was going to have to stay there, but I got it out in the end. However upending the bottle still didn't result in anything coming out. I stabbed it again- once again having a tricky time getting it out- then did the same with a table knife. After that one small drop came out when it was upended, and another after it had been like that quite a while. However the rate was too slow to be practical.
We took it back to my room, where I stabbed it with some scissors in an effort to enlarge the hole. However it then felt like if I twisted and pulled the cork would come out. But in the process of attempting this I somehow pushed the cork into the bottle instead. Still, the wine was now unobstructed and flowed freely, and the cork hadn't even wanted to go inwards originally so I guess that counts as success.
We also got Cosmopolitan when we bought the wine, and spent an amusing couple of hours** reading it after watching Chicago. Incidentally, the new speakers are amazing- the best I've ever had on a computer, and possibly better than our old television. They need to be plugged into the wall as well as the computer- something I didn't realise straight away- so I suppose they're not so good for the environment. Still I won't be using them that often- if I watch something by myself I use headphones.
The next day I set the alarm for 10.30, planning to get up straight away. At 10.30 when it woke me up I decided to go for five more minutes. Then untill 10.45 in five minute intervals, then till 11 ditto. I think I really would have got up then only Ginger handed me the phone when it went off at 10.55 and so I set it without getting out of bed, and fell asleep before completing the process. So it was after 12 when I got up, and poor Ginger was rather hungry. We had some toast (I now have a toaster- I brought it back after my visit home last weekend; it used to belong to my grandma (now dead), and my parents came on it during a clear out. It was really annoying doing toast under the grill because you had to keep a constant eye on it to stop it burning), then made a trip to the vending machine before settling down to watch a film Ginger brought with her, In the Mood for Love by Wong Kar Wai. It was pretty good (but of course being us we still found plenty in it to laugh about, despite it being a serious and poignant film). Ginger couldn't stay much after that, so I accompanied her to Liverpool St tube.
I then wanted to go and get some food and a corkscrew to replace the one I broke. I remembered Flatmate 7 talking of a Robert Dyas on Bishopsgate, and walked a long way down, till I thought it couldn't possibly be this far and must have been in the other direction. Then I found it, but it was closed on Saturdays, so after more wandering in search of an open ironmonger's, and a detour into Marks and Spencer's where I bought 3 tubs of their chocolately mini bites (well, they were on special offer, 3 for £5), so as to have something sweet to eat when I'm back home, I eventually decided I was going to have to take the tube somewhere. Spotting Fenchurch St station, I spent a couple of minutes searching for the underground before remembering that it was Farringdon I was thinking of. I found my way to Monument, and was going to go to Baker St, remembering the Robert Dyas I'd been to at the beginning of term, before suddenly realising at Euston Sq that I was being silly- I didn't have to go that far, I could go to the one on Tottenham Court Rd that I always used to go to when I was at UCL- the one that introduced me to Robert Dyas, in fact- and got out. Robert Dyas on Tottenham Court Rd was open, but it didn't have corkscrews. I spent quite a bit of time searching before I noted the label on the empty rack. Of course, it makes sense that that would be quite a popular item at this time of year. Still, I thought while I was there I might as well get a sieve- which I'd been wanting for a while- and another wooden spatula to replace the one that was broken (actually I got a set of three). The sieve wasn't actually hanging on one of the racks but lying underneath. Comparing the descriptions I worked out that it was £4.99, and thus cheaper than the Tefal one (at £5.99), which I didn't want anyway. I was rather surprised therefore to be charged £16 for it- but sadly I didn't notice till it was too late (I paid by card).
I thought I'd probably have to go to Oxford St to find a corkscrew, but that there was just a chance they might have one in Sainsbury's, where I could also get the food I needed. Miraculously, they did have a corkscrew, and I got one for myself as well as one to replace the one I broke. They didn't have any ready roll pastry though. So I bought most of what I needed, and went to Tesco's when I finally reached Bishopsgate again (after quite a long wait for the 205 bus since I just missed one). But Tesco's didn't have it either. They didn't even have frozen peas.
I'd arranged with Flatmate 7 to watch a DVD together this evening, and we also cooked stuff together to eat while watching. What I wanted the pastry for was vegetarian mini pasties- the filling was easy enough: soya mince (I still had more than half a bag from last time I cooked with Flatmates 7 and 3), onion, carrot, potato, peas, garlic, vegetable stock, soy sauce and marmite- it turned out perfectly. I decided to have a bash at making pastry even though I didn't have a recipe. After trying it and finding it didn't hold together, then adding more water and more flour, I arrived at something that still broke very easily but did stay together enough for it to be folded in half over the filling and then lifted onto the baking tray. It tasted very dry and crumbly though, and didn't brown, so I'm not sure it quite qualifies for the label 'pastry'. The other dish I made worked better- soft Philadelphia style*** cheese with grated cheddar mixed in wrapped in gyoza skins (but in the shape of won ton) and deep fried. I'd bought some Mexican salsa which went well with it. Flatmate 7 made a very nice dish with broccoli and mushrooms, and also some bean thread noodles, as well as helping with what I was making.
Flatmate 1 who was also in the kitchen some of the time asked if I had any movies he could borrow. I said I was going to watch a film with Flatmate 7 and he was welcome to watch too or borrow something else if he didn't fancy our choice. He was on the phone when we started to watch (at the kitchen table- the original plan had been to do it in my room but there was so much food it would have been hard without a table), but came in later and borrowed Spirited Away. We were watching Singing in the Rain. Halfway through we cleared away the dishes and made some tea, and Flatmate 7 cut up a sweet that I'd had in Japan, but which I can't remember the name of. It's made of red beans.
We spent quite a while talking after the film, and Flatmate 7 showed me some things from Taiwan, including a pen with an amazing roll out map. Flatmate 1 came in after a bit and joined in the conversation. When we finally went back to our rooms, I started the horrible task of packing: I'm going home for the holidays tomorrow- and Flatmate 7's coming with me, just to have lunch and get a look at the Cotswolds, then she's going back in the evening. I filled my massive suitcase with clothes, books (textbooks, novels and cookbooks), origami paper, DVDs and food- when Mum's out, ie most weekdays, the remaining three of us tend to get our own lunches and as there isn't a shop in walking distance I thought it would be prudent to stock up on cans of soup and jars of pesto in London. And of course there were the chocolatey mini bites.
I still have to pack things like toothbrush and toothpaste- and of course my computer!
*apparently her mum finds the word even funnier. When she (Ginger) saw my Beaver bag that I got free in Fresher's Week, she wanted to know where she could get one, as it would make a great Christmas present for her mum. Sadly I had to explain they'd only been going in Fresher's Week. She said she'd pay £10 for one if I could find anyone willing to part with theirs, but somehow I haven't got round to pursuing that very actively- I keep meaning to ask SC2 if she'd be interested, since I've had hers for five weeks or so, since the Climate Change Awareness Week Quiz, and have been meaning to give it back to her, but if she hasn't missed it all that time perhaps she isn't that attached to it and would exchange it for £10. But I don't think I can ask her in time to get it to Ginger before Christmas now **It's not that Cosmopolitan is particularly hilarious, just that we seem to be able to find a rich vein of humour in just about anything- Ginger's set text Hippolytus in First year had us in hysterics, to take a random example- and anything that involves sex just lends itself even more
***I actually used Sainsbury's own brand at 40 something p compared to over £1 for genuine Philadelphia
Time Series ended yesterday. It was the first time I'd been since missing about three in a row, but it didn't seem too incomprehensible- hopefully I'll be able to catch up with what I missed sometime before the exams in the summer. I'll need to find someone to copy the diagrams from though- although we're expected to print out the notes from the public folders and follow along, the lecturer deliberately misses out the diagrams to encourage people to turn up to the lectures.
The lecturer didn't give out any feedback questionnaires. I assume he just forgot- I think we're supposed to get them for every course that finishes this term.
After Time Series (which finished a whole hour early this time since we simply covered the whole syllabus ), I made my way to Leicester Square where I was meeting my brother. I went via the London Graphics Centre (between Covent Garden and Leicester Square) where I bought some little blank cards (blank as in they were just folded pieces of coloured card) and tiny envelopes, and a sheet each of gold and silver paper, and also via Topshop*, where I got some things for the President of People and Planet's birthday party that evening- a present for her and a pair of tights and a lipstick for my outfit. I thought I'd have no trouble finding her something there as I reckoned I had a pretty good idea of her taste, and it was similar to one of my friends from UCL's (one that I haven't seen for years, and whom I wasn't particularly close to though we were part of the same group of friends on the Maths course), and I always used to find jewellery in Topshop whenever I needed to buy her a present. But this time the styles were all rather glitzy and ostentatious, rather than chunky but simply coloured or wooden, and it took quite a lot of looking. It was also made more complicated by the fact that I thought earrrings would be best in terms of her taste and style, but I couldn't quite remember for sure if she had pierced ears. So I felt the need to get something else as well. In the end I found a bracelet of large wooden beads in shades of grey, white and black, with one bead having a pattern of flowers on, and some long silver leaf shaped earrings.
I wanted fishnet tights for my outfit- the dress code was 'So you think you're trendy?' and I wasn't quite sure what that translated into in practical terms, but thought that the silver dress I made last year could work with the right accessories, which included a pair of red canvas high wedge heeled espadrilles that I got last summer. When I found the fishnets, though, I caught sight of a pair of leopardskin tights that just seemed even better. So I got those and the fishnets too (well, they might come in handy) plus the brightest red lipstick I could fine, which wasn't really that bright at all.
My brother and I went to Pizza Hut. Even though I know it's not great quality and certainly not very healthy, I have something of a fondness for the Pizza Hut buffet. I like the pizza, but the best part for me is the potato salad, with the smooth roundness (I know, I know, they probably use horrible chemicals to skin them) and always properly waxy texture of the potatoes, and the pasta. My brother, on the other hand, couldn't care less about the other stuff and went for the pizza only buffet. He is really rather extravagant about Pizza Hut- yes, for a restaurant, it's cheap, but when he's at home he often eats there if he goes into town shopping, rather than just get a sandwich or something, or eat before or after he goes, and he told me that while he's at uni, if he comes into Piccadilly to go to a comic book shop he often goes to Pizza Hut afterwards because he's too hungry to wait to eat till he gets home. But it's his life and his money!
Back at LSE, I had a few hours which I could have used to make a start on the individual project or catch up on the vast piles of work I hadn't done as I went along. I chose to spend them making Christmas cards. A lot of people that I wanted to give them to would be at the party in the evening, and I probably wouldn't see them after that before term ended, or not to speak to anyway. As well as the stuff I bought in the London Graphics Centre, I had some Japanese patterned origami paper, and I managed to come up with three designs. Surprisingly, the one I thought would take longest, and which I therefore left till last, turned out to be the quickest. What really took the time was the one with snowflakes, as I was cutting the snowflakes out of folded paper. I broke off halfway through to go to the Union shop before it shut, but it turned out that it sold silver and gold pens only in my mind. So I had to use pencil to write on the black card and paper. I made it to French Connection (the French Society)'s showing of La Boum just before it started. They had some refreshments as well, including a very very nice quiche with blue cheese which I would love to know where they got from**. The film was about a fourteen year old girl's first party and first boyfriend, but it was a comedy and it was also about her parents' farcical lives. There weren't English subtitles, but luckily there were French ones- I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have managed without that as I couldn't make out the words they were saying though I understood them all written down. It was a pretty good film.
It was the first event of French Connection's that I'd made it to- everything else had always been at a time when I had something or other else that I was already going to. But I couldn't hang around afterwards and get to know people as I had a boum of my own to get to- it started at the time the film finished. I did get to talk to one girl, who was also apparently going to an event of theirs for the first time***, and also was not a native French speaker, for about two minutes as we went down the stairs, before turning off to the first floor loos (which have the loo and basin and mirror all in one room so you can lock yourself in while you do your make up and there's plenty of space to get changed). I emerged in my silver dress, red shoes and leopardskin tights feeling rather self conscious, and went to find out about the buses at one of the Aldwych bus stops.
In the loos, after changing. I made that dress myself, you know!
After taking the bus in the wrong direction, hanging about on Waterloo Bridge for ages in the freezing cold waiting for one going the right way****, and getting a bit lost going from Old Street to Shoreditch High St (the President had given me great directions from Shoreditch High St but it wasn't obvious quite where that was though I'd thought it would be), I arrived about an hour and a half after the party started, to find the basement of the bar, which had been hired for the party, containing about five or ten people. Being an hour and a half late, I apologised, but the President said many people hadn't come yet. This turned out to be very true- I didn't realise how true at the time, but an hour or so later there were more than 50 people there.
It was a very good party. Probably the best I've been to in three years or more- but then I haven't been to many parties this year, and last year I was living at home and didn't go to any at all, and before that I was in Japan. I spent quite a bit of time chatting to F, the People and Planet Fundraiser, whom I hadn't really talked to much before but had always thought was really nice. Unfortunately she had a bad stomach ache. I also danced a fair bit- the music wasn't that melody driven, but, unless it was the alcohol distorting my perceptions, I seemed to finally have worked out how to dance to it and was really getting into it. And I also got to talk to quite a few People and Planet people (though R wasn't there), and some non-People-and-Planet people that I'd never met before (including the Students' Union Treasurer's girlfriend, who's not at LSE any more- I confess that I was ever so slightly disappointed to have it thus confirmed that he does have a girlfriend. I'd seen pictures of them together in his office but thought she might be his sister). And give out my Christmas cards, though that wasn't easy. I handed over the ones for the President, for F and for the Residences Officer fairly simply, and eventually got to talk to the Secretary and another girl and give them theirs. And I also wrote a couple on the spot for people I hadn't been sure if they would be there***** whom I saw in the distance (including the Students' Union Treasurer, whom I felt a bit above-my-station giving a card to, but decided it was ok because he'd been in the Sutherland campaign and I had spoken to him a few times, but he was very nice, and if he thought it was inappropriate or presumptuous he didn't show it) and eventually managed to hand those over too. In the end I was left with CMCC's- I'd seen him when he and the Residences Officer first arrived, and came over to our corner, and I gave her hers, but CMCC started talking to some other people straight away, and I didn't get a chance to even say hello then, nor later, when he was still talking to people every time I looked his way. In the end, when I bumped into the Residences Officer in the Ladies', I asked her to take it for me as it would probably be simpler. But she wasn't having any of it, and took me up to him and told him I had something to give him. I did then also manage to have a conversation with him!
I only planned to stay till midnight, but I was having such a good time that I stayed till it finished at about 2. Since Shoreditch is so close to Spitalfields, I then walked home, down Commercial St, though I took a very long way round, as I remembered coming on Commercial St while I was lost on the way, and so went back there, although if I'd just carried on down Shoreditch High St, it would have become Bishopsgate, or I could have turned off it onto Commercial St a little way down. It was quite a long walk, and it was cold and raining, but it would have felt a lot further, colder and wetter had it not been for the excessive amounts of alcohol in my bloodstream.
I had every intention of going to my nine o'clock lecture today no matter how tired or hung over I was, but I didn't actually manage to wake up to make that decision. It was 9.18 when I did wake, and so I thought as I'd missed the lecture I might as well have a bit more sleep, though in order to be sure of being in college in time for the UGM at 1, I set my alarm for 10 (that would allow for wanting half an hour more when I woke up, and for getting up very slowly). Unfortunately, I fell asleep after typing in the digits but before actually pressing 'ok'. So I next woke up at 1.35. It would be annoying enough to miss the UGM in the ordinary way of things, but today there were to be motions of censure against the Students' Union officers who took part in the Sutherland protest, and they needed as many people as possible to come along and vote against. So I felt guilty for not having been there to give them my support (as well as missing what must have been a very interesting meeting, and getting to see the debate and the vote). Fortunately, I heard later that the motions had fallen.
After a trip to Tesco's and a slow lunch (I was too hungover to do anything productive), I went to the Have Your Say meeting in the common room, which was where one of the second in commands from LSE and someone from Shaftesbury Housing, as well as some more bods who I didn't know who they were******, and we got to air our concerns. The second in command went on at the beginning about how they wanted to hear our views and problems, not just so they could deal with them, but also for future reference when making decisions about halls (or something like that, I think that was the gist). The first people had problems like the excessive fire alarms, getting Sky TV, or the price of laundry that were quite hard to deal with, but the reception was sympathetic (well not to the price of laundry thing- for a moment I was back on the Civil Service Fast Stream Assessment Day as the second in command forcefully pressed the poor guy who brought it up for details: he had suggested that it could be subsidised by the School, and the second in command asked 'Who exactly do you mean by the School?' and the guy had obviously no idea what possible options there were to choose from on that one (no more had I), and the second in command asked if he was suggesting that the laundry for people in the hall be subsidised by people not living in the hall, and it was exactly like the individual interview on a hypothetical scheme at the Assessment Day, except there the interviewer was only pretending to be fierce for the purposes of the interview). So I thought that my problems, which would involve no money, would be met with, at the least, 'Ok, well we'll bear that point of view in mind in the future while making similar decisions, or if this policy comes up for review', and hopefully 'Ok, we'll have a look at that and consider changing it'. I wasn't of course expecting them to just turn round and say 'Fine, we'll do it your way'. But what I got was a whole load of reasons why things couldn't be otherwise, and a lot of pointing out that there were other opinions and if they did as I wanted then another group of students would complain, as if I was just expecting them to do it. Apart from saying that the system of flats that only those from that flat can get into led to an unsociable atmosphere, and that corridors accessible to all would be better- and explaining that I knew nothing could be done about it now but that it might be something to consider for future halls, my two points were that the new policy of not allowing posters on doors round the halls was bad, and so was not allowing even white tacked posters in rooms. I also spoke when fire alarms were being discussed, to say that I didn't understand why they had that particular type, that could be set off even by normal cooking rather than actually burning something, and that meant you couldn't boil a kettle in your room. In support of that and my point about the flats vs corridors argument, I mentioned my experience in UCL halls, but the second in command guy pretty much discounted this and talked to me about security concerns as if I was an idiot- of course I realised that was an issue, but I didn't think it would be as much of a problem as was claimed, based on my experience at UCL (there were some incidents, but then the door to our block from the outside was never locked, so what do you expect? And there weren't that many). He also said on the subject of the posters that he couldn't dictate Shaftesbury policy, and I explained that I raised the point for the Shaftesbury people in the room and didn't expect him to do anything about it, but he still said that a bit. The Shaftesbury guy explained that it was because if people start putting things on door it's a short step to putting things on walls. I pointed out that people had been putting things up for some weeks now without being tempted onto the walls, and also, (after being interrupted by the second in command who related how LSE had agreed with the Students' Union to unofficially tolerate posters on Houghton St provided they were nowhere else, but how the posters had begun to reappear in other places after a week or so), that as we'd received no emails about the policy and I only knew about it from asking if it was ok to put a particular poster up, most people were going to continue putting things on doors as before totally unaware of the change while only people like me who asked first and were less likely to put things on walls were going to stop using the doors.
There wasn't any 'Ok, that's one point of view, but we'll make sure to consider it in the decision making process even though of course we may still have to decide the other way at the end'.
I came back and had supper (while watching Clueless)- a frozen Goats' Cheese Tarte Flamme; a treat I didn't really deserve given my record this past week, plus some garlic marinted cucumbers that Flatmate 7 made the other day, which were very nice and reminded me of stuff I'd had in Japan. Then I went to see L, who was packing as she's off to Korea tomorrow. I hadn't seen her in quite a while, so it was nice to have a chat.
On the way back, I stopped by the laundry to get some washing I'd put on while I went to see her, and got some stuff from the vending machine. But a packet of Minstrels got caught and didn't fall down like it was supposed to. I went to see the night guard on duty at reception in case he could help, and he said I should tell the day staff, and they'd get a refund from the vending machine company. On the way back, I saw someone with some Maltesers from the machine and decided to go and see whether their use of it had dislodged my minstrels- then I wouldn't have to bother with asking for a refund, and I would have the Minstrels. Indeed, they were no longer caught. But nor were they anywhere to be found. Someone (not necessarily the person I saw) must have caused them to fall when they bought something and taken them as a bonus. So I'll have to explain that to reception, and they may not be able to give me a refund since the company did actually provide them to somebody even if it was the wrong person. It's annoying, but it's only 50p and while I begrudge that to a company, I suppose if I'm calm and rational about it I don't really begrudge it to another student, or at least not so much. And I'm sure they didn't realise they had been paid for by someone else and that they were getting what I'd forked out for- otherwise I don't believe they'd have taken them. I bought another packet. *Of course, speaking of going from Aldwych to Leicester Square via Oxford St is using 'via' in rather a loose sense **No, that doesn't sound right, but I think it would be worse with an 'it' in it
***She hadn't made it to any other events because she was in religious halls with a curfew
****I took the opportunity to get the cards written (hadn't quite had time before the film) leaning on a handy wall
*****Again the grammar's off
******What is it with today that I keep picking sentences like this that just can't be written in a way that sounds right, no matter what you try?
