Fresher's Flu

Following the examples of countless PhD students and other postgraduates before me, I declare that undergraduates have become the bane of my existence.

This declaration was brought to you by the annual bout of fresher's flu. Well, I think it may only be a cold, but any sniffles occurring mid September to mid October are categorised as the fresher's flu. Such conceptualisation implies several things. #1. Spread of germs increases exponentially when tens of thousands of students come together in one place.  #2. It is the fresher's fault. #3. It is an epic-demic rivalling bird flu and swine flu and the best strategy of avoiding it would be to avoid undergraduates (as you would birds or pigs).

If a smartphone app was to be made of the fresher's flu, I would be happy to catapult both birds and pigs at freshmen.

The arrival of undergraduates is a migratory pattern that you won't be able to miss. First, the streets fill with cars bursting at the seams with their belongings. Mums and dad's move their goslings into their student accommodation. As soon as they leave and the evening descends, the newly arrived undergraduates transform in a werewolf like manner into intoxicated clubbers. During the day time, they will fill the campus, dragging their hung over selves around like zombies in the morning and bursting with adorable excitement for the new uni experience in the afternoon.

They will continue to torment me as I will eventually have to teach them and worst of all, grade their work. I will also have to answer their e-mail queries with kind words and guidance, when all I want to do is get a rubber stamp and go around smacking "I have brain flatulence" onto their foreheads.

In summary: Undergraduates are germy and become annoying when you are no longer one of them.

Article

So, my MSc dissertation happened to be a part of a study that my supervisor was working on, and because of this I am theoretically a co-author on this article.

That all sounds fancy and cool, but what it really means is that I gathered data and scribbled up my dissertation. They used the same data and wrote up an article that I get my name on and kindly pretend I actually contributed to it. Today, I received the final draft of said article and I have been reading through it for the past half an hour.

This is kind of what I feel like:

I keep stopping and filling to the brim with embarrassment. My dissertation, in the light of this article, is rubbish. I cannot believe I have submitted it thinking it was OK. I really should have spent more of my summer bettering it instead of thinking it was good to go. In response to my suspicions of this articles vast superiority to my dissertation, my supervisor kindly said "I'm sure your dissertation has its own interesting points on the matter".

I really feel like the kid who came home with a messy finger painting that her parents then put on the fridge.

"Much to learn, you still have."

Apartment Block Blackout

So I came home from a weekend at my Boyfriend's house. I walked in the door and tired to turn on my bedside table lamp. Nothing. Then the big cruel ceiling lights. Nothing. Then the bathroom light (just on the off chance). Nothing. Hmmm.

After a knock on my neighbour's door (nothing like a power cut to bring random people together) and it transpires that the power cut has been going on for about three hours. Hmmm. Right, onwards to try and figure out how many people have tried to contact the wardens, how many have succeeded and what is being done about it. Long story short. They tried to do something about it, the power came back on for about thirty seconds and went out again. I manged to catch up with a friend on the phone and read a book, first by candle light (which is technically not allowed but what do they expect?) and then in bed by the light of my Samsung galaxy tab.

The power still wasn't on when I woke up his morning. I have to say that I am worried for my food. I do not fancy spending a hundred or so pounds replacing all the food I had stored in the freezer so I would only have to "top up" at regular intervals as I don't have a car. However, luckily for me the friend I caught up on the phone with is coming over and has a car. Maybe they won't mind helping me out if all my food has thawed and is now a salmonella deathtrap.

So, this morning I came to the office. No new computer yet. Bah! In other news, have a new desklamp, lab book and stats books (geek alert - actually, they are my comfort blankie as I am insecure about my true stats abilities). I also have a meeting with my supervisor and most likely second supervisor today. All the more reason to get some stuff done despite lack of my very own computer.

In celebration of meeting my second supervisor today, I spilled some of my morning latte on my white shirt. Well, at least I have a good excuse to go by a lovely scarf at lunch!

Out With the Old and in With the New!

Hallelujah, my dissertation is in the bindery! I had the best of intentions on handing it in today, but then I got entwined in a vicious cycle of printing it, flipping through it and finding little things wrong with it that I just HAD to fix (i.e. reprint pages 7, 12, 37, 42 and 53). Why is it, that no matter how many times you've read through and fixed and adjusted and proofread and had other people proofread, when it comes to printing, things suddenly turn ugly and difficult?!

So, because I got stuck reprinting and checking and fixing, I didn't get to the bindery (which is miles away) until eleven o'clock in the morning. Now this doesn't sound bad, and I didn't think it was bad since at my old uni you just popped in, they did it for you on the spot and you walked away a happy bunny with a bound dissertation in your hands! Well, in Bangor things are a little bit different. Firstly, like I said, the bindery has been situated miles away.

I had to walk in a grey rain drizzle all they way, past sheep pastures and horses and fields to the damned corner of Bangor where the bindery is. I got soaking wet and my glasses became covered in rain. I get to the bindery, unable to see anything and unable to wipe my glasses due to the fact that all my clothes were damp as well. The bindery man was very nice, but apparently I couldn't get my dissertation bound on the spot. Instead I was to leave it with them and come back for it..... all the way past the sheep pastures and horses and fields and... you get the picture. So I reluctantly handed over my dissertation and walked back to civilisation.

I had a meeting with my supervisor and we already started discussing my project as well as potential conferences to go to. Straight into the deep end then. I haven't even registered yet. We did, however, also rearrange the furniture in my new office. I must be more specific, new office for me, but in itself an old office with a new coat of paint. Even though it's looking a bit fresher, I am still trying to get some brown filing cabinets out of it and I have to take bleach with me next time in order to really make it home. I mean second home.

Now, here is a minor misconception that I was under. I believed I would be moving into what would be a bustling hub of Ph.D. students with creative research ideas and unfathomable work morale. Apparently the plan was to accommodate 3 new Ph.D. students into the building that I am currently in. I am one of those three. Now, it appears that these other students share a second supervisor who seems to think they would be better off in another building. Leaving me all alone with a couple of Ph.D. students just finishing off their Ph.D.s. Sad times. Alas, I hope that by some miracle I won't be all alone in there, for I would feel isolated and possibly rebel by procrastinating. A lot. (As if I wouldn't anyway)

Well, only time will tell! In the mean time, I eagerly await my new computer!

Geeky feelings

Heard (and saw) this today. I thought it was amazing and almost made me cry. Don't ask me why, I'm just that geeky.

This is a part of a website that uses a Songify type approach to make collages of science programs and scientist speeches into lovely and informative pieces of music. Check it out, it's called The Symphony of Science!

Also, I think Brian Cox makes science sexy!

Settling in

I finally have internet in my new appartment. It's amazing how many things can go wrong when moving into a flat in the UK. Things-just-do-not-work!

I went to Singapore on holiday a couple of weeks ago and was blown away by how great the place was. Not only was it hot and sunny and full of shopping malls, but the whole place functioned like an overclocked well oiled machine with super efficient watercooling that lights up! Unlike Finlands publick stairwells, escalators, gateways and elevators, nothing smelled of wee. Singapore's vast lattice or underground walkways, the subway and infinite numbers of escalators and lifts were all sparkly clean, fresh and airconditioned. They were also filled with nice people who gave their seats to the more needy in a heartbeat.

The tube stations were dotted along the edges with indicated areas where the train doors would stop. In addition to this, in front of said indicated areas were clearly painted instructions on how to correctly enter and exit a train without hassle, delay or deaths. It's quite simple, Londoners: in from the sides and out from the middle. It went something like this:

None of this silly scuffling along the edge trying to guess where it might stop so you may optimally position yourself to force your way in against the rightful current of people coming off the train. See Michael McIntyre about this tube thing, he tells it better than I do.

So anyway, the reason I'm telling you about Singapore, is because I told my supervisor about my trip as well as all the problems I'd had moving into my apartment. "What do you think this is, Singapore?" he exclaimed and we had a good laugh. Indeed, this is not singapore, it's Wales.

So what did happen with the apartment. Well. I had e-mailed the office to ask if I could move in a week early so I could get some peace and quiet to finish of this damned dissertation. They said yes. So I turned up on Saturday with my baggage (emotional and luggage kind) and the lady in the office was slightly shocked that I was there asking to move in. My apartment has been the show room for the private accommodation company and so firstly some busy wardens were ushered into my room to clear it out.

Then I was given a key and told that it does not work on the front door yet, so I will have to enter through the back door. However, turns out that the back door is impossible to close firmly from the outside so I would have to exit through the front door. Clearly this is a sensible way to do things. Not only that, but the key also opens every other door in the building, so I was kindly asked not to go into other people's currently empty apartments. And before you think I'm a nosy person, I would like to tell you that I resisted the temptation.

Ok, so I got into my apartment, weird key and all and get unpacked. I notice that my shower does not work. I also notice that none of my taps produce hot water. My stove works on a booster switch which I find really odd and I don't have internet. I also discover that one of the cupboards in my studio flat is taken up by a water boiler. Things don't work like this where I'm from, I don't know how to use a boiler. In Finland, water magically appears in both hot and cold forms from one tap depending on which way you turn the handle. No buttons or electrical equipment or additional knobs or lights or switches needed.

That night (one of the first nights) I go to roast an organic chicken thigh (because I'm doing all kinds of trendy and responsible things with food now) in my microwave-oven combo (which slightly freaks me out) and I hear a peculiar rattling coming from inside. I tentatively open the door and a small puff of grey smoke escapes and I meet a smell of melting plastic. Suffice to say I have not dared use the oven again. I did tell the office lady about this and she told me to keep the oven on and see if it stops. That is totally the scientific approach to solving this problem.

Tonight, I finally have internet. I also have a shower that works, hot water coming out of my taps with varying success and I have keys to my new office. I have cooked proper food in my very own slightly dysfunctional kitchen every day and even though I have not dared to turn the microwave-oven on again, life is good right now.

I just need to get this dissertation submitted by next week.