Sunday, August 29, 2004
I need a new laissez-faire attitude.
I am attempting to channel Mandy, who's getting married next weekend:
Eight days till the wedding! Yikes! Actually, I'm not that stressed out about it. I know he's the right guy, and nothing else really matters. As long as we say the vows and sign the paper, I couldn't care less if: the cake falls on the ground, babies cry during the ceremony, hamsters run amok through the Grand [the hotel], the slide show doesn't work, my dad crushes my foot during the dance, I trip on the steps and my sari unravels....etc. etc. I mean, whatever. It's my new laissez-faire attitude.I'm even more sad to be missing the wedding now that I know hordes of marauding hamsters are a possible disruption. And I wish I could have been back in Vancouver for Jessica and Greg's wedding yesterday. But I can't be laissez-faire about the dissertation, because it's still far too incomplete. I keep telling myself I'll be much happier Wednesday afternoon, but I don't entirely believe it. Argh.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Voter irrationality and strip malls.
Two links, discovered in brief (but given there's a week left, not brief enough) sanity breaks from working on the dissertation. Both my economics and advanced behavioural decision making courses touched on voter preference and behaviour -- interesting stuff, though unlike Grash I didn't write a paper on it. This article from the New Yorker on the subject is educational and depressing by turns, and has pointers to more research in the area.
Which reminds me (see item
- Hand in dissertation.
- Party.
- Party some more (a wake of sorts must be planned for John's departure to the home continent).
- Get the sound on my laptop fixed (on hold on and off since November).
- Finish unpacking (on hold since June).
- Indulge obsessive information magpie/archivist tendencies until my access to electronic journals via JSTOR and Web of Science runs out.
- Implement the system from Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity (yes, it would have been more effective to this in, say, February)
- Recommence contemplating what to do when I grow up.
- Spend two weeks in Canada, mostly in Kelowna, mostly going through all my stuff that's been stored chez mum and dad for the last year and figuring out (stress-free and productively) what to do with it.
"Whatever else it may be, Kelowna, B.C., is neither Old World nor New Age. Rather, it may best be described as a long strip mall, winding like the sinuous tail of the local sea monster, Ogopogo, through a valley of stucco mansions and speedboats and blond highlights."This is possibly the truest description ever of the town in which I grew up.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Furthermore
Happy 30th birthday to Kevin! And happy 30th in 6 days to Jay, and happy belated birthday or anniversary to everyone whose birthday or anniversary I've missed in the last few months because I've been too busy nerding out!
Along with having a life again, I'm looking forward to being a better friend.
Despite the bitching and the stress and the rather large library late-fee fine waiting for me the next time I'm in London, though, I'm still convinced doing this degree at LSE was one of the best decisions I've ever made.
Count down
Precisely two weeks from now my dissertation is due. I've got a very patchy first draft done. I'm really looking forward to having a life again, after 4 p.m. September 1.
Of course if I was content with a life in which I didn't get an MSc with Distinction, I would be much less panicky right now. Life would be much easier if I felt no need to live up to my potential. Stupid ambition.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
A much needed laugh
Quentin emailed this; like him I'm skeptical that these insightful similes actually came from high school Essays. But I don't care. [Later: I lied, I do care, now that Russ has unearthed the original source, with attributions.] This is my favourite:
The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM.In other news, I hate my dissertation and the fact that it's not just writing itself. There is no justice in the world. And no (NO!) sleep (SLEEP!) 'til Brooklyn (OR MAYBE SATURDAY WHEN I FINISH THE FIRST DRAFT AND THE DEBUGGING, ARGH!) (Apologies to the Beastie Boys).
I'm a bit stressed. Three more weeks. Forty pages. Many results to be generated.
Monday, August 09, 2004
It's a nice day for a French wedding.
J and I met during co-op terms in Ottawa in 1997, and stayed in touch until we both ended up back in Vancouver. I'd met J's parents and sister, and her fiancé S of course, but J and I both lead busy lives so when we'd meet up it was usually challenging enough just to coordinate our two schedules. In other words, I didn't know anyone else at their wedding in Paris this weekend.
The first time I travelled alone to a wedding in another city knowing only the bride and groom and the bride's immediate family, at age 19 or so, I called my parents in tears the first night at the hotel because I didn't know my way around Chicago and had eaten dinner alone and wasn't going to know anyone at the wedding, and, and, and, "oh woe is me life is an eternal struggle." (TM Jetset) My very understanding parents called the bride's parents, who hooked me up with a couple of the bridesmaids in my hotel and I had a blast in the end, but I'm thankful I spent my 20s learning that friends of my friends are likely to be delightful people and it's not worth wigging out over not knowing anyone. It helps, I suppose, that I've been to four weddings a year on average for the last five years. I'm very sad to be missing three in Canada this summer, so it was particularly nice for me that J and S chose to get married somewhere closer. I had a great deal of fun being a total social butterfly from eleven a.m. Saturday until 4:30 a.m. Sunday, with a brief break mid-afternoon during which I went back to my hotel and had a nap.
The wedding was supposedly at noon, at the Mairie de la troisieme arrondissement, but after a group of us walked over from J's sister's apartment, there was a lot of milling about in the courtyard and picture taking.
Finally the clerk ushered us inside and upstairs. He gave a very touching speech, as did the mayor-like guy he introduced. They both commented on how obviously joyful the couple and all their family and friends were. I teared up, despite only being able to hear half of what he was saying.
After the ceremony, there was more milling about and much cheek kissing. One of J's many cousins was handing out dragée almonds, and another had a basket of chocolates S had brought with him from Vancouver. J's sister's Texan roommate and I led a long, straggling train of people back to the apartment, where J's family had prepared an informal (and delicious) lunch, mostly Indian-style pilafs and curries. J's mother made sure S's sister (also vegetarian) and I got some vegetable curry, which was super sweet of her.
I walked back to my hotel, and after my nap again walked back to the Mairie for the shuttle to the chateau. It was only ten blocks or so but the trade-off of sorer feet vs. a few Euros for a cab seems stupid until you take into account the many approving comments I got on my dress and hat from random passers by, the best of which was a simple but vehement, "Magnifique. Magni-FI-que." The hat, purchased Friday, matched the dress, purchased in London in May. I'd called J a few weeks ago to get some information and to clear the dress with her.
"Are you wearing a hat?"
"I don't have one... should I get one?"
"Well, the reception's at a chateau, you could wear a hat."
"Ok, I'll get a hat. If I don't find one, I can still come though, right?"
"Of course!"
But I found one:
At dinner I was seated next to Geordy, who's part-way through an INSEAD MBA in Fontainebleau. I think I met one of his former housemates on one of my food court trips in Singapore in May. Everyone at the table knew of INSEAD (which seemed to surprise Geordy), though Yasmina hadn't realised it was an English-language school. Peter explained to her "INSEAD's like Monaco -- a principality that does its own thing." That amused me. I was also amused by the photographer who, after taking pictures of our table, told Hervé (on my left) that Hervé, his partner Babette and I were "à trois" in the photograph. Hervé heh-hehed his approval of the innuendo. Ah, the French.
Along with silly innuendo, the French continue to excel on the food and wine fronts. Before dinner (which didn't start until 9:30 or 10) there were copious hors d'oeuvres and even more copious champagne in the garden at the back of the chateau, overlooking the fountains and a lovely sunset. I mostly hung out with some of J's many French cousins. Dinner was five amazing courses, and didn't end until around 1:30, with the cake being wheeled out just before 3.
My glass was never empty all evening, but I never felt drunk, just comfortable switching back and forth between English and French and fascinated by everyone I met. And somewhat sparkly. I also had a huge amount of food, but the slow pace meant I wasn't full until I'd finished the cake. I'm not sure what I had for two of the five courses, since I was "spéciale" with my vegetarian options, but somehow I ended up with both cassis and citron basilic sorbets in the fifth course. The cake was a tower of choux but also had strawberry mousse, and fruit, and other delicious stuff when served.
But though delicious the food, free-flowing the champagne, and swank the chateau setting, the wedding was so lovely because everyone there truly was fascinating to me, simply by being united in their love for the married couple. J and S did a wonderful job of sharing their joy with us.
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
London news you may or may not find delightful
I am regretfully declining the invitation to the 3rd Circle Line Party, but that's no reason you shouldn't go! Unless of course you're going to a friend's wedding in Paris or have some other very important reason not to be in London.
In other news from the Underground, you can read weekly updates on the latest gossip on the Underground (via YetAnotherBlog). "I love Aquarians - they are so ruthlessly cool and aloof." I'm sure I eavesdropped on the same woman raving at the end of June about how Pisceses are all warm and super friendly, every single one of them. The site reminds me a lot of Overheard (no longer online, as far as I can tell, here's the web archive).
And in case you need more news about London, This Isn't London is "the web's first, best and only* source of completely untrue - indeed, made-up and unfactual - facts and information about London, The World's Greatest City*. [...]
*Might not be true."
This Isn't London is updated much more frequently than this blog. I hazard a guess that its author is not panicking about having a dissertation handed in by the beginning of September, but even if I weren't, there's no way I could come up with such brilliance a tenth as often. You should be relieved I don't try.
