Pub quizes are an institution in the UK. Even the smallest villages will throw them once a week. This being Cambridge (almost 360 pubs) you can pretty much find a quiz any night you want. They're a good way to spend the evening.
So last night we went over to a local pub to try our luck. The rules were simple - four rounds of ten questions, each with a one or two themes (this week was Current Affairs/Food, Sports/Words, Geography, Bikes/General Knowledge). Before you start, you pick one round to be your double points round where you get 2 points per question instead of 1. One pound to play, winning team takes the whole pot.
So we were ready. We decided Grace and I would be masters of Current Affairs, since we both read the New York Times obsessively, so we picked round one to be our double points round.
Three hours later we had gotten last place. A meager 21 points out of a possible 56 (there were some bonus questions). The winning team had 42 points, so we actually got half the points they did. But to be fair, we were a team of three and there were, like, ten of them.
Highlights:
-How was Chocolate initally consumed? Gary (our mate) and I immediately huddled in to say "it was smoked!" We high fived each other, both of us remembering that Simpsons episode about the history of chocolate where the narrator says Native (South?) Americans were the first users of chocolate, and they smoked it. Grace thought the answer was that it used to be drunk, but she trusted our confidence. It turns out the Simpsons is not the best source of historical knowledge.
-What Tennis Veteran and famous commentator died this week at the age of 81? We had no idea so we put down "Boris Backhand" which is pretty funny.
-What english word can mean "skin," "barbarous and cruel," or "hill?" I figured this one out (and got a nice pat on the back from the team). It's "callous." We weren't sure if "callous" could mean "hill," but Gary said there was a hill near his house called Callous hill, so we figured it couldn't be anything else.
But the correct answer was "fell."
-What is the name of the colony founded by Swedish settlers in the 17th century near Delaware, USA? This one we were told had a hint embedded in the question. We ignored that advice and wrote down Martha's Vineyard. Correct answer: New Sweden.
Anyway it was a good time. We got a basket of chips (french fries in Americanese). And it was some local guy's 71st birthday so the whole pub sang to him.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Wimpole Estate
Yesterday, in celebration of Pride and Prejudice season Grace and I visited Wimpole Estate, reputedly the grandest stately home in Cambridgeshire. We really wanted to see one of these homes after watching the series - you see that these homes and grounds were the primary settings for most of the events of their lives. They spent a huge part of their time (especially if they were women I suspect) in either their estate or someone else's estate. Anyway, Wimpole is only eight miles south of Cambridge so we would be fools to miss it!
God, what an ordeal to get there though. There was one bus that went there - it dropped you off a mile away from the estate at 9:30 and 1:30 and picked up two miles from the estate at 4:45. And that was after a 1 hour ride. Initially we were going to go on Saturday but the weather was terrible and projected to be beautiful on Sunday, so we delayed. The bus doesn't even run on Sundays, so we thought we would bike there. Unfortunately, my bike has a broken spoke so I needed to get it repaired in town first. But no one could do it till Monday so we were out of luck there. We could take a train to Royston, the closest station, and then take a taxi. But it would cost 16 pounds each way, plus train tickets. Probably over 40 pounds to get there and back, plus the 12 pound entrance fee. Not good enough.
In the end I took a bus into town and rented a bike from a cycle hire store and we were able to bike. The road was unpleasant with cars frequently whizzing by and no shoulder for half the way but (after an hour of biking) we arrived. We were a bit worn out - it had taken two hours of buses and bikes to get here. But after lunch we perked up and went on a tour of the estate.
There were no photos allowed in the estate, but you can see what it looked like by watching any number of Victorian era movies, especially either Pride and Prejudice movie. It really was just like they are presented in those movies - a statement of wealth, a holding place for the accumulated treasures of the generations, a place to hold enormous parties, a place with enough variety to keep the inhabitants from getting cabin fever. There was a long room that could be used for walking when the weather made going to the garden impractical. There was a gigantic pool/bath. A breakfast room and dining room. A book room with more books than many local libraries. In addition to the book room there was a library proper which was undergoing restoration, so we couldn't enter. There was a chapel. Saloons, sitting rooms, rooms for every purpose.
In the basement there were servant quarters. A pantry with enormous trunks labelled things like cumin and hyacinth(?). Drawers labelled cinnamon. Walls of china, walls of linen. We wondered how many people it would take to run a house. Grace thought 40, but I thought a lot less. I figured you would need some gardners, some cooks, some maids, some butlers, but what else? Of course there was also an enormous farm on the grounds, and that could easily employ many more people. And there was a giant walled in garden where, presumably, the family grew all the fruits and vegetables it ate.
In a house like that the bored rich could easiliy divert themselves their whole life I think (and that's what they had to do, right? They didn't really work). You could go to the library one day, the pool/bath the next, visit the farm, the gardens, the grounds, play the piano-forte, have a party, go to a party, etc. Apparently there used to be a beautiful glass conservatory and another wing. I'm not sure what hapened to them.
After the estate we went over to the farm to see the famous baby lambs. There were a million families here today for the event. For a few weeks out of the year all the sheep give birth and you can see it happen. Apparently this absolutely disgusting process is a hit with the kids.
Anyway, this is a working farm and there are tons of cattle, sheep, pigs, chickens, roosters, goats etc. I don't know if these cows and pigs are special or if I just haven't been on a farm in a long time but I was amazed at the size of these animals. The pigs seemed like cows and the cows seemed like hippos or something. They had torsos like tree trunks!
Onto the sheep though. First we saw baby lambs. They were cute, as you might imagine. Then we saw younger lambs, with umbilical cords still hanging from their stomachs as they walked around. Not so cute. Then we went to a new building which was really crowded. This was where sheep gave birth. We battled for a spot to watch and the horrifying event commenced. I'll describe the process in graphic detail so you can imagine it nicely.
There were two sheep that were about to go. One had this enormous disgusting bag of yellow fluid hanging out of her, like a giant water balloon made of wet cellophane half filled with urine. The sheep didn't seem that concerned. She kept wandering in circles but she wasn't bleating as if in pain. She turned around. She turned back and the back had burst, so now it just looked like a foot of wet cellophane hanging out beneath her tail. She started licking up something wet on the ground.
The same thing happened with the other sheep. Enormous cellophane urine balloon hanging out of the sheeps nether regions. Probably about a liter or two of fluid. Hanging about a foot. Dozens of kids pressed against the fence watching this happen. Not horrified, but excited.
Anyway the second sheep sat down, sat up, walked around. Now the bag was burst. Suddenly this black thing poked out. It was the lamb's head. I knew for sure when it started looking around. At this point Grace was blown away and dazed. The rest of the lamb wasn't coming out though. The two headed sheep just walked in circles. Then she sat down, presumably on her baby's head. The audience was worried.
But then she stood up and before long something happened. In a split second the rest of the lamb squirted out and Grace burst into hysterics. She couldn't stop laughing, loudly. No one else was laughing, but there were some gasps. One kid tried to get some applause going but the people weren't having it. Anyway, the baby lamb was on the ground and the mom started licking all the wet off it and one of the farm workers came in and pulled the lamb away from the fence. We decided we had seen enough and didn't wait for the other sheep to give birth.
That was the highlight of the day for us I think. A little dazed we went on and took a walk around the extensive grounds. We went out to the ruins of a gothic church, but there was a fence around it, so we couldn't climb all over it or anything. After an hour of exploring we pulled up our bikes and journeyed home. Though the wind was in our face this time the trip went by quickly.
Photos from the day are on the Flickr Website. I think clicking on the picture will take you there. If not, go here.
God, what an ordeal to get there though. There was one bus that went there - it dropped you off a mile away from the estate at 9:30 and 1:30 and picked up two miles from the estate at 4:45. And that was after a 1 hour ride. Initially we were going to go on Saturday but the weather was terrible and projected to be beautiful on Sunday, so we delayed. The bus doesn't even run on Sundays, so we thought we would bike there. Unfortunately, my bike has a broken spoke so I needed to get it repaired in town first. But no one could do it till Monday so we were out of luck there. We could take a train to Royston, the closest station, and then take a taxi. But it would cost 16 pounds each way, plus train tickets. Probably over 40 pounds to get there and back, plus the 12 pound entrance fee. Not good enough.
In the end I took a bus into town and rented a bike from a cycle hire store and we were able to bike. The road was unpleasant with cars frequently whizzing by and no shoulder for half the way but (after an hour of biking) we arrived. We were a bit worn out - it had taken two hours of buses and bikes to get here. But after lunch we perked up and went on a tour of the estate.
There were no photos allowed in the estate, but you can see what it looked like by watching any number of Victorian era movies, especially either Pride and Prejudice movie. It really was just like they are presented in those movies - a statement of wealth, a holding place for the accumulated treasures of the generations, a place to hold enormous parties, a place with enough variety to keep the inhabitants from getting cabin fever. There was a long room that could be used for walking when the weather made going to the garden impractical. There was a gigantic pool/bath. A breakfast room and dining room. A book room with more books than many local libraries. In addition to the book room there was a library proper which was undergoing restoration, so we couldn't enter. There was a chapel. Saloons, sitting rooms, rooms for every purpose.
In the basement there were servant quarters. A pantry with enormous trunks labelled things like cumin and hyacinth(?). Drawers labelled cinnamon. Walls of china, walls of linen. We wondered how many people it would take to run a house. Grace thought 40, but I thought a lot less. I figured you would need some gardners, some cooks, some maids, some butlers, but what else? Of course there was also an enormous farm on the grounds, and that could easily employ many more people. And there was a giant walled in garden where, presumably, the family grew all the fruits and vegetables it ate.
In a house like that the bored rich could easiliy divert themselves their whole life I think (and that's what they had to do, right? They didn't really work). You could go to the library one day, the pool/bath the next, visit the farm, the gardens, the grounds, play the piano-forte, have a party, go to a party, etc. Apparently there used to be a beautiful glass conservatory and another wing. I'm not sure what hapened to them.
After the estate we went over to the farm to see the famous baby lambs. There were a million families here today for the event. For a few weeks out of the year all the sheep give birth and you can see it happen. Apparently this absolutely disgusting process is a hit with the kids.
Anyway, this is a working farm and there are tons of cattle, sheep, pigs, chickens, roosters, goats etc. I don't know if these cows and pigs are special or if I just haven't been on a farm in a long time but I was amazed at the size of these animals. The pigs seemed like cows and the cows seemed like hippos or something. They had torsos like tree trunks!
Onto the sheep though. First we saw baby lambs. They were cute, as you might imagine. Then we saw younger lambs, with umbilical cords still hanging from their stomachs as they walked around. Not so cute. Then we went to a new building which was really crowded. This was where sheep gave birth. We battled for a spot to watch and the horrifying event commenced. I'll describe the process in graphic detail so you can imagine it nicely.
There were two sheep that were about to go. One had this enormous disgusting bag of yellow fluid hanging out of her, like a giant water balloon made of wet cellophane half filled with urine. The sheep didn't seem that concerned. She kept wandering in circles but she wasn't bleating as if in pain. She turned around. She turned back and the back had burst, so now it just looked like a foot of wet cellophane hanging out beneath her tail. She started licking up something wet on the ground.
The same thing happened with the other sheep. Enormous cellophane urine balloon hanging out of the sheeps nether regions. Probably about a liter or two of fluid. Hanging about a foot. Dozens of kids pressed against the fence watching this happen. Not horrified, but excited.
Anyway the second sheep sat down, sat up, walked around. Now the bag was burst. Suddenly this black thing poked out. It was the lamb's head. I knew for sure when it started looking around. At this point Grace was blown away and dazed. The rest of the lamb wasn't coming out though. The two headed sheep just walked in circles. Then she sat down, presumably on her baby's head. The audience was worried.
But then she stood up and before long something happened. In a split second the rest of the lamb squirted out and Grace burst into hysterics. She couldn't stop laughing, loudly. No one else was laughing, but there were some gasps. One kid tried to get some applause going but the people weren't having it. Anyway, the baby lamb was on the ground and the mom started licking all the wet off it and one of the farm workers came in and pulled the lamb away from the fence. We decided we had seen enough and didn't wait for the other sheep to give birth.
That was the highlight of the day for us I think. A little dazed we went on and took a walk around the extensive grounds. We went out to the ruins of a gothic church, but there was a fence around it, so we couldn't climb all over it or anything. After an hour of exploring we pulled up our bikes and journeyed home. Though the wind was in our face this time the trip went by quickly.
Photos from the day are on the Flickr Website. I think clicking on the picture will take you there. If not, go here.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Odds and Ends
-There's a sign for a lecture posted up at the entrance to the economics library. It just has the date, the time, the speaker's name and then the title of the lecture in huge, accusatory, letters: SEVERE DEPRESSION IS INDESCRIBABLE
That's pretty intense.
-I was biking to the economics library and there was this tiny little thing scampering along the edge of the sidewalk. I had never seen anything like it. From a distance it looked like a scampering brown hairy turd. It was long narrow and extrememly close to the ground. It must have had legs about 1 cm high. And they were moving really fast because I biked after the wierd thing to try and get a closer look and I actually had to bike pretty hard. And then, of course it dashed off into the undergrowth. Grace says it must have been a muskrat (the picture to the right is a muskrat I found on the internet - originally I had this picture, but I decided it was too disgusting).
-There's an article on the BBC website about how Americans think the British accent is a signal of high education and class. The Brits seem baffled by this, but I'm not surprised.
Additional Note: My British friends obviously have British accents and I've grown used to them, so that I no longer have any illusion that they are smarter than they are just because of their accent. But sometimes, as a joke, they try to imitate my accent and I'm always struck by immediately how much dumber they seem when they imitate my American accent. They sound like high school drop out thugs or something. I can't stand when they do it.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Holiday
Two eight week terms and now I have learned all I'm expected to learn. I'm on my five week break before the final term, officially called Easter Term, unofficially called Exam term. I've two essays to write while on this break and next term we have a small number of review classes before the three exams commence in June. So I'm trying to work hard now.
The weather has so turned sour in the last week. Last week was sunny, clear and warm. This week it's sunny and clear, but also cold and windy. And violent sleet showers pop up once or twice a day to hammer those outdoors for twenty minutes or so.
Some of my classmates were undergraduates at Cambridge and have said this term is actually the best. There's the stress of exams but the weather turns nice and it becomes time to punt. As I was told, you can't be expected to study all day and punting is the perfect way to unwind. It's cheap (something like 2 pounds an hour divided amongst four people) and alcohol is practically required.
Right now it's Pride and Prejudice season at the Clancy-Thommandru household. It seems like each March Grace gets a hankering to rewatch the BBC miniseries and the film adaptations. I've noticed some important similarities between me and Mr. Darcy, the lead love interest.
Studied at Cambridge?
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Fitzwilliam?
Darcy: That's his first name.
Clancy: Studying at Fitzwilliam College.
Has a sister ten years younger?
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Tall?
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Name with "a" as the first vowel, followed by a consonant and ending in "cy?"
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Sideburns?
Darcy: Massive
Clancy: Sometimes
This is almost as spooky as the Kennedy/Lincoln assasination coincidences!
The weather has so turned sour in the last week. Last week was sunny, clear and warm. This week it's sunny and clear, but also cold and windy. And violent sleet showers pop up once or twice a day to hammer those outdoors for twenty minutes or so.
Some of my classmates were undergraduates at Cambridge and have said this term is actually the best. There's the stress of exams but the weather turns nice and it becomes time to punt. As I was told, you can't be expected to study all day and punting is the perfect way to unwind. It's cheap (something like 2 pounds an hour divided amongst four people) and alcohol is practically required.
Right now it's Pride and Prejudice season at the Clancy-Thommandru household. It seems like each March Grace gets a hankering to rewatch the BBC miniseries and the film adaptations. I've noticed some important similarities between me and Mr. Darcy, the lead love interest.
Studied at Cambridge?
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Fitzwilliam?
Darcy: That's his first name.
Clancy: Studying at Fitzwilliam College.
Has a sister ten years younger?
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Tall?
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Name with "a" as the first vowel, followed by a consonant and ending in "cy?"
Darcy: Yes
Clancy: Yes
Sideburns?
Darcy: Massive
Clancy: Sometimes
This is almost as spooky as the Kennedy/Lincoln assasination coincidences!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
An update on our world ending
A while back we reported that our world was falling apart and now here is an update on that situation:
--Our friend who left Cambridge is loving his life again now that he has time to actually have a life. We are very happy for him but still miss him a great deal. We hope to see him one of these weekends during Matt's holiday.
--My job has been extended another month, so job security is fairly secure for now. Also, I will be getting paid a nice little retention bonus, most of which will go to pay our April rent, with enough left over for a trip or two into the wilds of the Lake District or Snowdonia National Park in Wales.
--Matt's tuition is NOT going to go up. The Dip students organized a massive effort to write a letter defending their position to the Econ Dept and the Econ Dept agreed that they shouldn't have their tuition raised. We will continue to pay the usual overseas student rate and the Brits will continue to pay roughly 1/12th of that rate.
--Matt did the dishes that were piled up in the sink. However they quickly piled up again; this will mostly likely continue in this heartbreaking cycle indefinately.
--The couple whose Oxford blog we had been following are still separated. We don't hear from the lady anymore but the guy is still making posts. We fear, he has gone a little religioso in his grief. Understandable. But we hope he'll move past it.
--Al Qaeda continues to gain strength and hold terrorist training camps on the Pakistan/Afghanistan border.
--Our friend who left Cambridge is loving his life again now that he has time to actually have a life. We are very happy for him but still miss him a great deal. We hope to see him one of these weekends during Matt's holiday.
--My job has been extended another month, so job security is fairly secure for now. Also, I will be getting paid a nice little retention bonus, most of which will go to pay our April rent, with enough left over for a trip or two into the wilds of the Lake District or Snowdonia National Park in Wales.
--Matt's tuition is NOT going to go up. The Dip students organized a massive effort to write a letter defending their position to the Econ Dept and the Econ Dept agreed that they shouldn't have their tuition raised. We will continue to pay the usual overseas student rate and the Brits will continue to pay roughly 1/12th of that rate.
--Matt did the dishes that were piled up in the sink. However they quickly piled up again; this will mostly likely continue in this heartbreaking cycle indefinately.
--The couple whose Oxford blog we had been following are still separated. We don't hear from the lady anymore but the guy is still making posts. We fear, he has gone a little religioso in his grief. Understandable. But we hope he'll move past it.
--Al Qaeda continues to gain strength and hold terrorist training camps on the Pakistan/Afghanistan border.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
More Wild Weather
I went into town around 4 o'clock today while the sun was shining and white puffy clouds floated across the clear blue sky. I should have taken the warning from earlier that such skies mean nothing. An hour later I saw the horizon had turned gray and menacing. And I had to bike that way to get home.
Wind started to howl. Somebody's kite in the park went crazy, flipping end over end and I saw the guy with the string forced to give ground. The chalboard menus in front of pubs blew over. It started to rain and from there sleet and from there snow/rain. I now know such phenomenon is called a sleet shower.
Naturally I didn't have a hat or gloves. We've been having wonderful weather the last week - most days I wouldn't have even worn my coat. It was after five on a Sunday so every shop was closed and I had no more reason to stay in town. I biked home and the weather intensified. Snow filled the air and when I looked up I saw the wind driving it at me. My hands went numb on the handlebars. When I got out in the open, outside of the town center, the wind picked way up. I literally had to stand on my pedals on every stroke to make any progress. My hands were bright red and painful and I began to wonder if it was possible to get frostbite in a mere ten minutes of exposure.
When I arrived at the apartment I reached into my pocket to get the keys and found my hands really were numb in every sense of the word - I had no sense of touch! My jeans were soaked and I walked into the apartment. After twenty minutes the storm was over.
Wind started to howl. Somebody's kite in the park went crazy, flipping end over end and I saw the guy with the string forced to give ground. The chalboard menus in front of pubs blew over. It started to rain and from there sleet and from there snow/rain. I now know such phenomenon is called a sleet shower.
Naturally I didn't have a hat or gloves. We've been having wonderful weather the last week - most days I wouldn't have even worn my coat. It was after five on a Sunday so every shop was closed and I had no more reason to stay in town. I biked home and the weather intensified. Snow filled the air and when I looked up I saw the wind driving it at me. My hands went numb on the handlebars. When I got out in the open, outside of the town center, the wind picked way up. I literally had to stand on my pedals on every stroke to make any progress. My hands were bright red and painful and I began to wonder if it was possible to get frostbite in a mere ten minutes of exposure.
When I arrived at the apartment I reached into my pocket to get the keys and found my hands really were numb in every sense of the word - I had no sense of touch! My jeans were soaked and I walked into the apartment. After twenty minutes the storm was over.
Crazy English Weather
It's a beautiful day outside. Puffy white clouds are floating across a clear blue sky.
Suddenly rain starts to fall hard. The sun is still shining. We look out the window and gape amazed as a dark grey cloud roars into view bringing with it howling wind and pouring rain. And not just rain. We look closer. After the first sheet of rain passes we see that snow is falling. Outside two poor souls have just started the walk into town and someone is struggling up the path on bike. They are both drenched now.
We look and see the end of this dark grey cloud! Blue skies and puffy white clouds are just over the shoulder of this intruding snow storm and are still visible in front of its advance. Outside our window snow is whipping around. And centered in our vision is a tall dark cloud. But we can still see the shining sun and puffy clouds on either side of it!
Within two minute the snow storm has passed and once again we see puffy white clouds floating across a clear blue sky. Only the wet concrete remains as proof of the storm's passing.
Suddenly rain starts to fall hard. The sun is still shining. We look out the window and gape amazed as a dark grey cloud roars into view bringing with it howling wind and pouring rain. And not just rain. We look closer. After the first sheet of rain passes we see that snow is falling. Outside two poor souls have just started the walk into town and someone is struggling up the path on bike. They are both drenched now.
We look and see the end of this dark grey cloud! Blue skies and puffy white clouds are just over the shoulder of this intruding snow storm and are still visible in front of its advance. Outside our window snow is whipping around. And centered in our vision is a tall dark cloud. But we can still see the shining sun and puffy clouds on either side of it!
Within two minute the snow storm has passed and once again we see puffy white clouds floating across a clear blue sky. Only the wet concrete remains as proof of the storm's passing.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Paris Photos
There's a new set of photos up, of Paris. It's pretty small, just 10 pictures. Go here to see them.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Pari$
Firstly, sorry this is coming up late. I've just been wrapping up Lent term here and had to take care of some business. And also, blogger is giving me a hard time with uploading photos. So you'll have to find them on FlickR. But yes, Grace and I went to Paris last weekend with the economics team.
Saturday
We weren't sure we could afford this trip so we cut the trip from three days to two days so we could get better priced train tickets and pay for one day less hotel and city expenses. Anyway, most of team economics went down on Friday (evidence continues to mount that money is not a major concern for most the people in my course) and we got up early on Saturday to take the 6:45 train to London. That was great. While in the train station Grace decided she wanted to read Emma by Jane Austen, and we looked through the three or four WHSmith bookshops in the London station to no avail. Too specific a desire. We got on the train with no trouble and sat across from five middle aged American women who spent literally half of the trip talking about Disneyland. They go a lot with their kids, but one of them thinks it's fun and she's been with her friend more than with her kids. Of course you have to get a fast pass. But even with one you still have to wait in line during the crowded season, so don't go then. And book early to go to Chef Mickey. But it's worth it. Avoid breakfast with Mickey. They talked loudly, but they were American.
In Paris we found our way to our hostel via the metro. We were in a pretty grimey part of the city with lots of graffiti and dirt, but it was sunny, there weren't sirens going off and the people out were regular blokes. Our hostel was sort of like three houses with one shower and one bathroom per building. We were on the top floor with a window looking out into a very little courtyard with little trees. It was a real nice touch as the weather was wonderful. We had the window open.
But the shared toilet was a turkish toilet, or drop toilet, or more accurately, poreclain hole in the ground that you squat over. I'm not sure if there's some historical reason why it's called a turkish toilet or if it's just called a turkish toilet because it's a sucky toilet and everyone hates Turkey in the EU. The latter seems more likely. One of classmates is Greek (to learn more about Greece and Turkey's feud look up the hate videos they make about each other on YouTube) and she said there's a Greek expression, that says something like, "When you get really really angry, you get like a Turk." One of our classmates is from Turkey and she's really sweet.
Anyway, we had a porcelain hole in the ground. It did flush (though the water spilled a little bit out onto where your feet are squatting). I thought it worked pretty well to be honest. It actually seemed cleaner than my toilet at ISU. It's nice that you don't touch any part of it, except maybe with your shoes. Grace doesn't share this assessment.
We texted everyone that we were here and ventured out to get what we came for - French food. Chocolate crepes, Bertillion ice cream, yogurt. Can't get enough of it while in Paris. The crepes are thick and delicious. Bertillion ice cream is still the best I've ever had. The vanilla isn't tasteless, it's really vanilla. It's not even white, it's light brown. And they make an extra bitter chocolate that is like the darkest chocolate transformed into ice cream. And the yogurt comes in little clay pots, instead of plastic ones and it's really, really thick. Delicious.
We spent most of the afternoon wandering around the Pompidou museum and the Marais district. The Pompidou is a modern art museum but there are always three or four groups of street performers in its big courtyard. We watched break dancers and spray paint artists. There are tons of street performers around Paris. And they're not depressing, like the ones we get at Cambridge (homeless people badly strumming a guitar while sitting). There's guitar players, of course, and drumming circles, but also jugglers, clowns, acrobats and comedians. I really like the atmoesphere and the next day I mentioned it to some of the economics people. Was there just some kind of culture of perfomance in Paris? They had a different explanation: high unemployment and the 35 hour work week. That's what you get when you talk to economists.
At 7 we left to go meet the economics people for dinner.
One nice thing about going to Paris with team economics is several of them have lived in Paris. One of them actually had a French passport. Anyway, he took us out to a classic French bistro and we squeezed around a long table. There was tons of wine, as might be expected and I thought it (the wine) was great. As a vegetarian I get a lot of cheese in France (it's all they know how to make for vegetarians besides omelets). Grace had duck. Someone else had a bone marrow meal. The guy next to me had a gigantic hunk of steak that seemed appetizing to me (first time that's happened with meat in a few years). We arrived around 8:30 and stayed past midnight (the meal was expensive - I don't want to talk about it). England has a strange puritanical rule that pubs must close at 11, but no such law exists in Paris. We went out for a pint after this at a French bar.
There's not the tradition of the pub in France, like in England, so this was really a bar, like you would see in America. Beer was expensive too. Around 2 in the morning Grace and I split with the group and went home. Apparently they all went to a heavy metal club and danced the night away.
Sunday
The next day Grace and I got up late and had breakfast/lunch at a little cafe around the corner. I realized here that I have surpassed Grace's skill with French! The waitress came over and said something French to which I replied, "Petit Dejeuner." That means breakfast! Grace said chocolate, for her drink, but she had to ask me what Petit Dejeuner means. Ha! I like French breakfasts - croissants, richly buttered baguette, orange juice and hot chocolate! Actually, I eat croissant every morning for breakfast now. It'll be a shame when we return to America and I won't be able to get nice ones at the supermarket anymore. Anyway, the weather was so nice we sat outside.
Today we were hoping to find the Haviland China store to look for a gift for Grace's mom. No such luck. We looked the address up in an internet cafe and went there only to find some other store there. Some other closed store. Now we had nothing to do. We walked through the gardens in front of the Louvre and Grace bought an enormous piece of cotton candy. It was a bit of a boring situation. We didn't really have much money or interest for going to battle the tourists at a musuem. And all the stores were closed. At times like this I wish I was taking a vacation in the country where you know what you're going to do - hike. Anyway, we walked down by the Seine which was nice. All the students were sunbathing, or studying, or picnicing along the sunny shores of the river. Most of the book vendors along the edge of the river were open and selling interesting old things. We went down to get some more ice cream.
Along the way we passed the entrance to St. Chappelle's, which I always wanted to see, but never have. We decided to spend the money on this and went in. It's a pretty interesting place. It's like if someone took all the stained glass windows in a gigantic cathedral and then brought them down to form the walls of a much, much smaller space. It's like a church of colored glass. Unfortunately they were doing work on one of the windows so we didn't get the whole effect - there was a big brown curtain blocking two of the windows at the end, above the alter, so it looked more like a hall of windows rather than a church made of stained glass windows. Apparently it was built to house the crown of thorns and other relics (not there anymore). The company working on the windows stuck a little placard on the end advertising their services, in case you need some stained glass window work.
We still had to get the ice cream and when we did Grace got cheated. She asked for her absolute favorite, strawberry and vanilla but the women gave her strawberry and peanut butter (also brown) and contined to insist it was vanilla. We would have put up more of a fight, but we didn't speak the language. Grace was pissed.
We wandered around the Latin quarter for an hour or more before going over to the Champs Elysees to watch the Enland/France rugby match with the economics team. We went to an English style pub for this - the British have a strong tradition of drinking while watching sports and they've built a wonderful institution up around it. So the majority of the people there were French. As one of my classmates said, it's one of the few things the British can be proud of exporting. We had to pay €8 to get in, and there was standing room only, but there was pint of Newcastle included in the cover, so sweet! I haven't had Newcastle from a tap in a long time.
The match was fine, and England won so everyone was happy. There were no commercials except maybe at half time. Wouldn't be able to get away with that in America. The pub also had a Starship Troopers pinball machine, which I didn't get a chance to play, but still.
With team economics partially reunited (some people didn't want to watch the game and and went to the Pompidou instead) we went for a long walk down to the Eiffel tower. Grace and I had more crepes while we all watched the tower sparkle from across the Seine. It's a nice view from there, you can see the whole thing, unobstructed. After this people had to use the bathrooms and there was nowhere close so we went down to the Eiffel tower, even as I remarked a half hour before that this would be my first time in Paris that I didn't go to the Eiffel tower. You just can't escape it. It draws tourists to it, slowly, but inexorably.
We took the RER train into the latin quarter from there where the full economics team was reunited. We took a long stroll to a further metro station and then out to a district with lots of African food for dinner at a Moroccan restaurant. The restaurant had a dog, which I thought was awesome. Grace really wants a dog (actually four, she has their names all picked out). But the apartment won't let us have any at the moment. At times like that, or when I want to buy a framed print or something, I wish we lived in our own house, so we could do as we pleased. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening for awhile.
Anyway, Grace and I had couscous meals which were fantastic. We stayed at this place just as late as the other and when the bill arrived it was quite reasonable, though by now our budget was blown. After the meal team economics split in two. Everyone but us was leaving on the 7:15 train, so they had to get up later. We were leaving on a later train so we stayed out with the people who didn't care about their future discomfort.
Another pint at another bar, this one wonderfully, stereotypically French. It looked like a cafe trying to be a bar. But it worked. And we stayed out for another hour or so before walking home. Paris is wonderful in the sense that you can walk home a long way in a grimey neighborhood with grafitti and feel totally safe. Everyone you see is just folks. There are even parents wheeling sleeping kids along in strollers (what are these Parisiens doing with their tottlers out on the town at 2 in the morning?!). We had to leave on the 11 o'clock train the next day (more on that below) so we set our alarms for 8 and went to bed.
Monday
Monday is a trajedy which makes me angry, frustrated, but mostly sad. We woke up at 8 and promptly went back to bed. We didn't have to be to the rail station till 10 so we reset our alarms and woke up after nine. While packing up I got our tickets out and my head realized, before my heart, that we had missed our train. I had misread the time of our trains departure. We arrived in London at 11, but departed from Paris at 9, which was already passed.
We dropped all plans of going to a French wine store before leaving and went straight to the station. The whole way was torture because I didn't know what to expect. Our budget was busted and we had paid the absolute economy rate for our tickets which meant they were non-changeable, non-refundable, non-anything. In my head I feared that we would have to purchase same day departure tickets as if we had just walked into the station. A plane ticket like that could cost over a £1000. Maybe we could take a bus for cheaper I thought.
When we arrived at the ticket window we explained the situation and were given new tickets for £75 each, which is about what we paid for our tickets originally. I don't think we could have gotten back to England any cheaper. We had to put them on the credit card, since, like I said, there's not much money. Anyway, it turns out we were right when we said we couldn't afford the trip to Paris. This event cast a cloud over the rest of the day and we gloomily returned to London and then Cambridge. Now we are here, being careful to eat noodles and pack our lunches for a few weeks.
Originally we were going to take a vacation this week, but we don't have the money for one now. But it turns out that's OK, because Grace's work has just extended her another month, so now she can take that. And apparently she has some holiday wracked up so we'll take a long weekend sometime soon to visit people in England.
I'll put the pictures up on FlickR soon.
Saturday
We weren't sure we could afford this trip so we cut the trip from three days to two days so we could get better priced train tickets and pay for one day less hotel and city expenses. Anyway, most of team economics went down on Friday (evidence continues to mount that money is not a major concern for most the people in my course) and we got up early on Saturday to take the 6:45 train to London. That was great. While in the train station Grace decided she wanted to read Emma by Jane Austen, and we looked through the three or four WHSmith bookshops in the London station to no avail. Too specific a desire. We got on the train with no trouble and sat across from five middle aged American women who spent literally half of the trip talking about Disneyland. They go a lot with their kids, but one of them thinks it's fun and she's been with her friend more than with her kids. Of course you have to get a fast pass. But even with one you still have to wait in line during the crowded season, so don't go then. And book early to go to Chef Mickey. But it's worth it. Avoid breakfast with Mickey. They talked loudly, but they were American.
In Paris we found our way to our hostel via the metro. We were in a pretty grimey part of the city with lots of graffiti and dirt, but it was sunny, there weren't sirens going off and the people out were regular blokes. Our hostel was sort of like three houses with one shower and one bathroom per building. We were on the top floor with a window looking out into a very little courtyard with little trees. It was a real nice touch as the weather was wonderful. We had the window open.
But the shared toilet was a turkish toilet, or drop toilet, or more accurately, poreclain hole in the ground that you squat over. I'm not sure if there's some historical reason why it's called a turkish toilet or if it's just called a turkish toilet because it's a sucky toilet and everyone hates Turkey in the EU. The latter seems more likely. One of classmates is Greek (to learn more about Greece and Turkey's feud look up the hate videos they make about each other on YouTube) and she said there's a Greek expression, that says something like, "When you get really really angry, you get like a Turk." One of our classmates is from Turkey and she's really sweet.
Anyway, we had a porcelain hole in the ground. It did flush (though the water spilled a little bit out onto where your feet are squatting). I thought it worked pretty well to be honest. It actually seemed cleaner than my toilet at ISU. It's nice that you don't touch any part of it, except maybe with your shoes. Grace doesn't share this assessment.
We texted everyone that we were here and ventured out to get what we came for - French food. Chocolate crepes, Bertillion ice cream, yogurt. Can't get enough of it while in Paris. The crepes are thick and delicious. Bertillion ice cream is still the best I've ever had. The vanilla isn't tasteless, it's really vanilla. It's not even white, it's light brown. And they make an extra bitter chocolate that is like the darkest chocolate transformed into ice cream. And the yogurt comes in little clay pots, instead of plastic ones and it's really, really thick. Delicious.
We spent most of the afternoon wandering around the Pompidou museum and the Marais district. The Pompidou is a modern art museum but there are always three or four groups of street performers in its big courtyard. We watched break dancers and spray paint artists. There are tons of street performers around Paris. And they're not depressing, like the ones we get at Cambridge (homeless people badly strumming a guitar while sitting). There's guitar players, of course, and drumming circles, but also jugglers, clowns, acrobats and comedians. I really like the atmoesphere and the next day I mentioned it to some of the economics people. Was there just some kind of culture of perfomance in Paris? They had a different explanation: high unemployment and the 35 hour work week. That's what you get when you talk to economists.
At 7 we left to go meet the economics people for dinner.
One nice thing about going to Paris with team economics is several of them have lived in Paris. One of them actually had a French passport. Anyway, he took us out to a classic French bistro and we squeezed around a long table. There was tons of wine, as might be expected and I thought it (the wine) was great. As a vegetarian I get a lot of cheese in France (it's all they know how to make for vegetarians besides omelets). Grace had duck. Someone else had a bone marrow meal. The guy next to me had a gigantic hunk of steak that seemed appetizing to me (first time that's happened with meat in a few years). We arrived around 8:30 and stayed past midnight (the meal was expensive - I don't want to talk about it). England has a strange puritanical rule that pubs must close at 11, but no such law exists in Paris. We went out for a pint after this at a French bar.
There's not the tradition of the pub in France, like in England, so this was really a bar, like you would see in America. Beer was expensive too. Around 2 in the morning Grace and I split with the group and went home. Apparently they all went to a heavy metal club and danced the night away.
Sunday
The next day Grace and I got up late and had breakfast/lunch at a little cafe around the corner. I realized here that I have surpassed Grace's skill with French! The waitress came over and said something French to which I replied, "Petit Dejeuner." That means breakfast! Grace said chocolate, for her drink, but she had to ask me what Petit Dejeuner means. Ha! I like French breakfasts - croissants, richly buttered baguette, orange juice and hot chocolate! Actually, I eat croissant every morning for breakfast now. It'll be a shame when we return to America and I won't be able to get nice ones at the supermarket anymore. Anyway, the weather was so nice we sat outside.
Today we were hoping to find the Haviland China store to look for a gift for Grace's mom. No such luck. We looked the address up in an internet cafe and went there only to find some other store there. Some other closed store. Now we had nothing to do. We walked through the gardens in front of the Louvre and Grace bought an enormous piece of cotton candy. It was a bit of a boring situation. We didn't really have much money or interest for going to battle the tourists at a musuem. And all the stores were closed. At times like this I wish I was taking a vacation in the country where you know what you're going to do - hike. Anyway, we walked down by the Seine which was nice. All the students were sunbathing, or studying, or picnicing along the sunny shores of the river. Most of the book vendors along the edge of the river were open and selling interesting old things. We went down to get some more ice cream.
Along the way we passed the entrance to St. Chappelle's, which I always wanted to see, but never have. We decided to spend the money on this and went in. It's a pretty interesting place. It's like if someone took all the stained glass windows in a gigantic cathedral and then brought them down to form the walls of a much, much smaller space. It's like a church of colored glass. Unfortunately they were doing work on one of the windows so we didn't get the whole effect - there was a big brown curtain blocking two of the windows at the end, above the alter, so it looked more like a hall of windows rather than a church made of stained glass windows. Apparently it was built to house the crown of thorns and other relics (not there anymore). The company working on the windows stuck a little placard on the end advertising their services, in case you need some stained glass window work.
We still had to get the ice cream and when we did Grace got cheated. She asked for her absolute favorite, strawberry and vanilla but the women gave her strawberry and peanut butter (also brown) and contined to insist it was vanilla. We would have put up more of a fight, but we didn't speak the language. Grace was pissed.
We wandered around the Latin quarter for an hour or more before going over to the Champs Elysees to watch the Enland/France rugby match with the economics team. We went to an English style pub for this - the British have a strong tradition of drinking while watching sports and they've built a wonderful institution up around it. So the majority of the people there were French. As one of my classmates said, it's one of the few things the British can be proud of exporting. We had to pay €8 to get in, and there was standing room only, but there was pint of Newcastle included in the cover, so sweet! I haven't had Newcastle from a tap in a long time.
The match was fine, and England won so everyone was happy. There were no commercials except maybe at half time. Wouldn't be able to get away with that in America. The pub also had a Starship Troopers pinball machine, which I didn't get a chance to play, but still.
With team economics partially reunited (some people didn't want to watch the game and and went to the Pompidou instead) we went for a long walk down to the Eiffel tower. Grace and I had more crepes while we all watched the tower sparkle from across the Seine. It's a nice view from there, you can see the whole thing, unobstructed. After this people had to use the bathrooms and there was nowhere close so we went down to the Eiffel tower, even as I remarked a half hour before that this would be my first time in Paris that I didn't go to the Eiffel tower. You just can't escape it. It draws tourists to it, slowly, but inexorably.
We took the RER train into the latin quarter from there where the full economics team was reunited. We took a long stroll to a further metro station and then out to a district with lots of African food for dinner at a Moroccan restaurant. The restaurant had a dog, which I thought was awesome. Grace really wants a dog (actually four, she has their names all picked out). But the apartment won't let us have any at the moment. At times like that, or when I want to buy a framed print or something, I wish we lived in our own house, so we could do as we pleased. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening for awhile.
Anyway, Grace and I had couscous meals which were fantastic. We stayed at this place just as late as the other and when the bill arrived it was quite reasonable, though by now our budget was blown. After the meal team economics split in two. Everyone but us was leaving on the 7:15 train, so they had to get up later. We were leaving on a later train so we stayed out with the people who didn't care about their future discomfort.
Another pint at another bar, this one wonderfully, stereotypically French. It looked like a cafe trying to be a bar. But it worked. And we stayed out for another hour or so before walking home. Paris is wonderful in the sense that you can walk home a long way in a grimey neighborhood with grafitti and feel totally safe. Everyone you see is just folks. There are even parents wheeling sleeping kids along in strollers (what are these Parisiens doing with their tottlers out on the town at 2 in the morning?!). We had to leave on the 11 o'clock train the next day (more on that below) so we set our alarms for 8 and went to bed.
Monday
Monday is a trajedy which makes me angry, frustrated, but mostly sad. We woke up at 8 and promptly went back to bed. We didn't have to be to the rail station till 10 so we reset our alarms and woke up after nine. While packing up I got our tickets out and my head realized, before my heart, that we had missed our train. I had misread the time of our trains departure. We arrived in London at 11, but departed from Paris at 9, which was already passed.
We dropped all plans of going to a French wine store before leaving and went straight to the station. The whole way was torture because I didn't know what to expect. Our budget was busted and we had paid the absolute economy rate for our tickets which meant they were non-changeable, non-refundable, non-anything. In my head I feared that we would have to purchase same day departure tickets as if we had just walked into the station. A plane ticket like that could cost over a £1000. Maybe we could take a bus for cheaper I thought.
When we arrived at the ticket window we explained the situation and were given new tickets for £75 each, which is about what we paid for our tickets originally. I don't think we could have gotten back to England any cheaper. We had to put them on the credit card, since, like I said, there's not much money. Anyway, it turns out we were right when we said we couldn't afford the trip to Paris. This event cast a cloud over the rest of the day and we gloomily returned to London and then Cambridge. Now we are here, being careful to eat noodles and pack our lunches for a few weeks.
Originally we were going to take a vacation this week, but we don't have the money for one now. But it turns out that's OK, because Grace's work has just extended her another month, so now she can take that. And apparently she has some holiday wracked up so we'll take a long weekend sometime soon to visit people in England.
I'll put the pictures up on FlickR soon.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Burned!
In class, talking about our homework which was to calculate if there was a change in the USA gender gap in the 70s. Turns out the gender gap decreased by about 26% in the time frame we studied. The professor explained that during this time period there was a real push for equality in the states. He went on to say that there was even an equal rights amendment that would have made it illegal to discriminate in any way based on gender, but, amazingly, it was not ratified.
I'm the only American in the class of 16. And America #1, so I pipe up:
"Yeah, it was because of abortion."
The professor stares at me with a blank expression. I continue:
"There was something about abortion in the amendment that nobody could agree on."
He immediately retorts, "No, it was passed in congress, but it ran into trouble with the states. Not enough states would ratify it because they didn't think it was necessary or good to enshrine gender equality in the constitution. They didn't believe it was necessary."
Burned! A British professor knew more about recent American history than me!
I looked it up on wikipedia and basically he's right. It didn't get the requisite 38 states to ratify it because of the issue he pointed out, but also over concerns about the selective service and other issues. Later he offered an olive branch to me on a different question, saying I was probably better to ask about American Union law than he was (which is, unfortunately, not true).
But I swear, there was something in that era that got derailed by a disagreement about abortion. Maybe something with the universal declaration of human rights? An Equal Rights Act? Can anyone help me out here?
One person from my class pointed out that there's an episode of the west wing that seems to be close to what I'm thinking. I hope I haven't substituted fiction for history.
I'm the only American in the class of 16. And America #1, so I pipe up:
"Yeah, it was because of abortion."
The professor stares at me with a blank expression. I continue:
"There was something about abortion in the amendment that nobody could agree on."
He immediately retorts, "No, it was passed in congress, but it ran into trouble with the states. Not enough states would ratify it because they didn't think it was necessary or good to enshrine gender equality in the constitution. They didn't believe it was necessary."
Burned! A British professor knew more about recent American history than me!
I looked it up on wikipedia and basically he's right. It didn't get the requisite 38 states to ratify it because of the issue he pointed out, but also over concerns about the selective service and other issues. Later he offered an olive branch to me on a different question, saying I was probably better to ask about American Union law than he was (which is, unfortunately, not true).
But I swear, there was something in that era that got derailed by a disagreement about abortion. Maybe something with the universal declaration of human rights? An Equal Rights Act? Can anyone help me out here?
One person from my class pointed out that there's an episode of the west wing that seems to be close to what I'm thinking. I hope I haven't substituted fiction for history.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Another trip to London
In London there is a giant, sparse, Apple store on Regent street not far from Picadilly Circus. I had an appointment there on Sunday at 1 with the "Geniuses." Long story short is the guy we got wasn't helpful or sympathetic and basically a little condescending, straight out asking at first if I used limewire and then implying everything was my fault for not backing up the hard drive. The hard drive had some kind of mechanical failure and all he would offer to do is replace it (in 10 days or so) for free. But I would lose all my data so I wasn't so happy. He also said iTunes wouldn't allow me to re-download everything I've lost because of piracy issues and hey, they warned me to back up my iTunes library.
He gave me the numbers of some data recovery companies in London and said it might cost between 100 and 1000 pounds to save the data, so I should decide how much it was worth. So that was a sweet trip. Plus, it was raining and cold.
My current plan is to try and save the data myself with some online instructions. Thanks to TJ, who you can see diagnosed the problem sight unseen and then offered a better prescription than the "Genius" at the apple store.
But we did more that day than just get frustrated. We also visited the Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibit at the Natural History Museum. I really like these kind of photo exhibits. In DC the Smithsonian Natural History Musuem had two: one was the National Geographic Photographer of the year show and the other was a collection of photographs in Antarctica. These kind of exhibits are the only chance you get to see photos of interesting places and things blown up way bigger than in a book or computer screen and without a crease running down the middle. I even paid money to see this one.
At this exhibit they didn't blow the photos up as big as they did at the National Geographic one, where they were usually five feet wide or so. Instead, they used really big slide prints that they put in front of light boxes so the light shines through the transparent photo. It makes the colors really bright. Anyway the photos were great. It made me want to get a new camera, one that has a bit more manual control options but will still be small enough to take everywhere easily.
We also finally visited one of the conveyer belt sushi places that inspired the restaurant where Grace worked this summer. It looks like Grace's restaurant was pretty faithful to the original design. But Grace did point out that this place seemed to have less people in the kitchen making a lot more food. And in addition to the waitresses who bring you drinks there were tap and carbonated water dispensers at every seat. Classy.
Today Grace was in London again, this time to get a visa for our trip to Paris this weekend. It was another six hour ordeal but we got it and we leave on Saturday. We're going with the economics group and apparently there's a big rugby match, France vs. England on Sunday which means everyone will be in a pub or bar all day to watch it. Also, I learned that you can bring as much wine back from France as you want, so long as it's for personal consumption. Wine is really cheap there. I might bring an empty suitcase.
He gave me the numbers of some data recovery companies in London and said it might cost between 100 and 1000 pounds to save the data, so I should decide how much it was worth. So that was a sweet trip. Plus, it was raining and cold.
My current plan is to try and save the data myself with some online instructions. Thanks to TJ, who you can see diagnosed the problem sight unseen and then offered a better prescription than the "Genius" at the apple store.
But we did more that day than just get frustrated. We also visited the Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibit at the Natural History Museum. I really like these kind of photo exhibits. In DC the Smithsonian Natural History Musuem had two: one was the National Geographic Photographer of the year show and the other was a collection of photographs in Antarctica. These kind of exhibits are the only chance you get to see photos of interesting places and things blown up way bigger than in a book or computer screen and without a crease running down the middle. I even paid money to see this one.
At this exhibit they didn't blow the photos up as big as they did at the National Geographic one, where they were usually five feet wide or so. Instead, they used really big slide prints that they put in front of light boxes so the light shines through the transparent photo. It makes the colors really bright. Anyway the photos were great. It made me want to get a new camera, one that has a bit more manual control options but will still be small enough to take everywhere easily.
We also finally visited one of the conveyer belt sushi places that inspired the restaurant where Grace worked this summer. It looks like Grace's restaurant was pretty faithful to the original design. But Grace did point out that this place seemed to have less people in the kitchen making a lot more food. And in addition to the waitresses who bring you drinks there were tap and carbonated water dispensers at every seat. Classy.
Today Grace was in London again, this time to get a visa for our trip to Paris this weekend. It was another six hour ordeal but we got it and we leave on Saturday. We're going with the economics group and apparently there's a big rugby match, France vs. England on Sunday which means everyone will be in a pub or bar all day to watch it. Also, I learned that you can bring as much wine back from France as you want, so long as it's for personal consumption. Wine is really cheap there. I might bring an empty suitcase.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Harbringer's of Doom?
After telling Grace about my post she told me that her iPod was "acting really funny yesterday." It was almost out of batteries and when Gnarls Barkely's "Crazy" came on, it started playing half-speed.
And when I tried to post the previous post, I had major problems. I put up empty posts, it rejected it, it had errors. I ended up restarting the computer.
And when I tried to post this very post, which you are reading now, the same thing happened.
I ask again: What's your game Jobs?
And when I tried to post the previous post, I had major problems. I put up empty posts, it rejected it, it had errors. I ended up restarting the computer.
And when I tried to post this very post, which you are reading now, the same thing happened.
I ask again: What's your game Jobs?
Coordinated Apple Failure
*It should become clear from this post that I've been reading "The Utility of Force: The Art of War in the Modern World"*
This is a pretty busy week. I'm applying for summer internships on top of my normal classload and one application was due Thursday and the other was due today. I had to get my CV in shape, write some cover letters, get references together, write a statement of intent, fill out the forms, list my employment history, get my transcripts and blah blah blah.
It was a once in a year moment for Steve Jobs to deploy his shock and awe tactics, ingeniously calculated to transform a busy week into a perfect storm.
So, on Wednesday night, after spending hours and hours on these applications on Monday and Tuesday he enveiled his first attack. I should have read the signs, seen the troops massing, but Jobs played me like a fool - I never saw it coming because I didn't believe it was possible. My macbook was acting a little slow that night, but I was running a lot of programs, including the infamous Microsoft Word (which I'm convinced was written under heavy protest by some Microsoft loyals who made sure it would gum up any non-windows machine). I left after uploading my cover letter and transcript to the application. I decided to wait until Tuesday to upload my CV. Crucially, I also did not upload my longest application - the one that needed employment history, overseas experiences discussion, letter of intent and statement of interest (all but the last part of which I had written).
I was out of the house and Grace was home reading, but none of us saw Steve Jobs strike. We know that it happened at 10:11, but we missed the incident. All Grace saw was that everytime she moved the mouse to wake the computer screen up and check the time, it read 10:11. Eventually she realized it was frozen (not uncommon) and she shut the computer.
I came back from my radio show around midnight and opened the computer up to do something. It came right on, and iTunes was loaded up and everything, but there was no mouse arrow. I couldn't click on anything - it was frozen. So after trying all the usual tricks I held down the power button and she shut off.
It was when I turned her on again, that I realized something was really wrong. I could hear something plastic - like a bottle cap - being swatted around somewhere in the laptop's belly. And an omninous clicking of something repeatedly trying and failing to engage. Eventually a folder with an exclamation point popped up and blinked at me.
I did what any person who doesn't understand how computer work would do. I picked it up and looked at it from different angles, I looked at the air holes in the back I even tried to peek in the CD-ROM drive. No clue. I restarted the computer several times, I unplugged it, I plugged it in again but every time there was that horrible sound of something plastic being batted around and then clicking.
My last computer I had for four years. I went crazy with how slow it got but it never just spontaneously blew up like this. I mean, I didn't drop this thing, I didn't spill coke on it, I didn't try to put cheese in the CD-ROM; I wasn't even home! No, this was a calculated strike by Steve Jobs. I don't know what his plan was, and that could be the most frightening part.
So I went to bed and began doing a damage assessment. Well, worst case scenario is I lose all the data - most importantly some 3000 photos and 14 gigs of music. But almost all the music is still on my CD's back home or there's a record of me purchasing it from iTunes and I understand they will let you have all your stuff back. The photos would be a pretty big loss. It's mostly from 1.5 years and though I still have the absolute best photos saved on FlickR, that's on the order of 150 photos. So it would be a pretty big loss.
But the most pressing things were those applications. They were due in 12 and 36 hours.
The next day I tried to fix the macbook with the provided CD's and I was able to load up the CD. But at the crucial juncture where I was repairing the hard drive errors cropped up. A B-Node failure. Damn. I called up AppleCare on my cell, since skype was inaccessible now and quickly cut to the chase.
Nothing to be done. I would have to reinstall the operating system, which would entail losing all the data. He added, almost as an afterthought, that I could take it down to the apple store in London and they could try to back it up. I made an appointment for Friday, then cancelled it because I realized I would need all possible time to get the applications done. I would have to worry about the computer later. So I shut it and put it in a corner.
I spent all night in the computer lab and finished my applications up at 1 AM. They weren't as good as they had been and I wasn't able to submit an application to a post in South Korea, but all in all things were OK. We had a guest from Grace's working staying at our flat that night and I completely missed them but what can you do.
Steve wasn't done with me yet. This morning I went to plug my iPod into my big speakers, since my 14 gigs of music are locked away, perhaps never to be found again. The second I inserted the cord, my iPod screen flashed the little picture you see in this post. It was like he was mourning the death of his big sister and couldn't go on living. So he didn't and now that thing is completely busted. I looked up the symbol on Apple's support site. Apparently it means there's a hardware failure beyond any quick fixes.
So now I have a double trip to the Apple Store in London this weekend. Or this exactly what Steve wants? What has he got waiting for me there? Good God. I better bring a couple hundred pounds in bribe money. Or a gun.
C'mon, are computer really supposed to just break of their own volition?
Seriously though I've heard of this before. When I bought the thing a friend of mine said his girlfriend's hard drive inexplicably crashed, necessitating $400 to fix. He told me to make sure I paid for the AppleCare package, which I did.
I thought it was pretty ominous that Apple offered an expensive warranty package that didn't even cover accidents. Why would you make people pay extra to protect against spontaneous breaking?
What's your game Jobs?
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