up the twitter

This post aims to do 3 things:

(i) Be my first post in ages. Hurrah!
(ii) Slag off social networking (reprise).
(iii) Slag off the need for mums-to-be to regale vile stories of bodily functions.

And the following example combines all three.

Erykah Badu has apparently recently given birth. This should be a reason for celebration for Badu and those close to her. But instead it has become something to gossip over not because of the wonders of bringing a life into the world, no, but because Badu and her partner had twittered throughout the whole process.

Twitter definition:
verb.
to bang on about irritating things via an irritating self-absorbed medium.

Etymology:
a word as ridiculous as the action it describes.

For instance, Badu twittered that she was in labour, then disappeared from the twittering world to have a baby. How dare she? Didn't she know that people would be refreshing their Facebooks to see if a new message had arrived?* Never fear though, Badu's partner, Jay Electronica, twittered the whole way through the birth. Would have been nice if he'd been a little more supportive to Badu, perhaps. He kept their collective >9000 "friends" updated as to waters breaking and how much Badu was dilated. Nice. He also twittered his friend, Just-Blaze, that he "should be here". So should you, Mr Electronica. Get off that bloody internet!

What do you think the wee bairn will be called? Just-Facebook? Yo-Online? Birth-Electronica?

I find it incredibly sad that someone would rather tell "friends" about something happening that enjoy the experience first hand (I guess there's always the argument that Mr Electronica wanted some distance from the proceedings!). It's even worse than going to a gig and watching the whole thing through a camera lens. There's also the concern that people want to create a particular profile of themselves (usually depicting themselves as being dressed up, going out and being "a little bit mental") that they forget how to interact with real people in real social situations at all. This medium should not be encouraged!

Don't even get me started on how people post scan pictures...

Which leads me to a related point: I don't know about you, but I don't really want to know about bodily functions in such detail. When people become pregnant they suddenly deem it appropriate to discuss things that otherwise would be completely off-limits. People keep showing me their bellies, discussing bladders and placentas and much, much worse. The babies must become desensitised to such talk. Think of the effect this must be having on future generations!

Maybe the kids will just think that "birth" is a widget or something.



*I don't know if you need to refresh the page or if messages reach you automatically, because I don't subscribe to such wank.



Disclaimer of awareness of irony:
That bodily functions have been referenced and published to the world at large via a (some may say) irritating medium. But there's only ever about 3 visitors to stroppy blog (including myself) and I'm trying to make a point. OK?!

carving a fruit on an eve

Sir Tom Prof set a pumpkin related challenge. And I accepted. I have never before carved a pumpkin. But you'd never guess!

Here is my first attempt. It ended up looking quite like Papa Moon:



For my second attempt, I thought I should try something a little Hallow e'en ish and predictable. Introducing: Monsieur Pumpkin, with a little beret:



It's sicking up a bit of pumpkin. Because pumpkin's not very nice really, is it? Tis the most frightening thing of Hallow e'en.

Naughty Papa Moon, what's that you're doing there?



Ah, playing a bit of jazz indeed!




PS Driving test finally passed - hurrah!

Feeling 22, acting 17...

Katie Melua was 19 when she released that bloody single. At least her feelings were realistic. Now, at the ripe old age of 24, she intends to release a greatest hits album. What on earth will go on there?

I dislike her very much. She disproves Gestalt. All her components are OK: she's found a niche in the market, she's a female singer like no other (read, "dull"), she's young and gorgeous, etc etc. However put them all together and she is a wholesome disappointment. (Apart from her hair. She has good hair.) She cannot move smoothly between notes - she has to step up with a little gag sound every time the note ascends. That is a sign of a seriously bad vocalist. But, because of her fantastic hair, it's ignored and she gets to release another album.

She's never even in tune!

(I had wanted to call this post, "Greatest (S)Hits", but I thought it may have been, to some extent, misleading and that certain readers might have got excited.)

I just thought another post was necessary, by the way. The previous N-torment looked a mess and I need no reminders of it.

This is what I've been doing all Summer:

And I've finally completed the sodding level!

Apologies for the quality of the video - couldn't find apprpriate software* to create a decent video.

The videos's so big it's getting in the way of other things on the page! I'll soon blog again and move this one down the page a little, for viewing ease.

* couldn't really be arsed to spend any more time on it to be honest, especially considering how many hours of my life I have wasted already on this ridiculous game.

communication error

I would appreciate advice: I have a large file that I need to get from my imac to my laptop. I am struggling knowing how to do so. It's a compressed copy of Office 2007. The file is large and therefore problematic. This is what I've done so far:

As the file is large it cannot be sent via the internet, such as through yousendit.com, sendbigfiles or dropsend (the latter of which I usually use). I tried installing new dropsend desktop software. It said the file had sent (even though it just exceeds the 1 GB limit). It hadn't.

My external hard drive 1 is not recognised by the imac.
My external hard drive 2 is, but is in a read only format (i.e. I can't add things to it). I have tried changing the permissions, both on the mac and on Windows.

I have cleared a 2 GB memory stick in order to put the file on there. The files have disappeared, but the capacity remains as it was when the files were there. I have tried wiping the stick on Windows, also. Same thing.

My other big memory stick is not being wiped - it's pretty and full of stuff too important to be lost (said stuff needs to be on a stick at all times!) Incidentally this wondrous stick would work, I know, but I just can't wipe it and be sans stick...

I have activated bluetooth on the imac. Can I find a bluetooth feature on the laptop? Can I buggery. It's a swish new vaio, but I can't locate it. Strange. I'm sure it's without the function.

I tried plugging in a USB-USB cable for direct transfer. Ever hopeful. I know it has to be a special transfer cable, with software, but macs are clever things. Not in this case however. Ditto with firewire.

I read up about gmail's immense storage capacity. Not for big files though. Just endless mini ones.

I enabled my internet connection so the laptop could use it. Why? I don't know.

There are surely other ways of getting this file transferred! What can I do? It's too big for a CD, incidentally, weighing in at 1.2 GB when compressed. The main file of importance is 1.1 GB, otherwise I would have thanked google and used the gmail option.

My final thought was this: ftp. Supposedly the ideal solution! Didn't work though... I downloaded a client, but couldn't state that the laptop was the remote PC. All quite confusing. Am at a loss! I think setting up an ftp server was a bit ambitious for little me.

Just thought: could download bittorrent or something and re-download the file directly onto the laptop I suppose. But that doesn't solve this problem directly! I must find a way to overcome...

Any ideas? Incidentally, I would rather not spend money in the process of resolving the issue. Otherwise I would have upgraded my dropsend account, bought a new large memory stick or purchased bloody Office in the first place!

Having a few work troubles...

...in that work is pretty boring. I don't really like it. Do I struggle on, feeling stressed? Or do I pack it all in and become a musician or something (as opposed to singing merely into my wok, of an evening)? My family keep suggesting to just plod on, but without making myself so stressed. The problem with that is that I'll then be resigned to working in a crap Uni for the rest of my days, as there's no time to work on the research profile (to improve chances of ever getting out of the place) without getting truly stressed.

Any advice? Am I just going through the typical post-PhD blues? Maybe it's SAD kicking in already - it suddenly seems like Winter.


Just so I haven't been totally negative in a post: I had a lovely evening with Alex Cornish on Sunday evening! Apologies for the repetition, but I highly recommend that you check out his work. Beautiful singer-songwriting.

signs

I have a new hobby: finding amusement in graffiti and signs strewn across this world in which we live.

I have a few examples to exhibit:

Firstly, a couple from Athens:


("Watch your step, the guy is dead")


(In case you can't read it, it's grammatically perfect and states:
"Katerina loves Joseph always tell the end of the world and he gives her also loves back". Whoever said that romance is dead?)

This one amused me especially, as we had spent the entire Greek trip speaking in Euro-accent, and was taken in a B+B in Southampton at the weekend where a few fellow guests (with amazing Euro accents) were staying:



Finally, I had to photograph this as I found it (in yet another room I was staying in in Southampton) shortly after regaling a friend with a tale about how two of my students had been drawing penis-art all over their lecture notes.



What is that on the notice board, exactly?



Ah. And another one.



It's nice to find a new hobby.

Mouth

I enjoyed my first beach holiday ever this Summer. I went away with four friends that I grew up with and relaxed wonderfully. I also seemed to absorb the sun and returned home looking like I'd worked in a coalmine, instead of beach-dwelling.

Paros is a beautiful island and Antiparos, even more so. Each day we'd find a new beach, which we would usually have to ourselves, where we could lounge and swim for most of the day. Bliss. Most fortunately, I didn't see a single crustacean. Woo!

As you'll know if you've been to Greece, cats run the place.


And I bloody love it. There were a few good friends at the villa, including Winey (who wouldn't shut up), Twenty-Twenty (who was blind) and, of especial note, Mouth. Mouth had no mouth. She was a delight. She was incredibly friendly and did that thing that cats do where they sort of headbutt things affectionately. Unfortunately, Mouth would leave a dribble-string everywhere she went. The cat lovers amongst us felt awful that she was so grim, found beauty in her and loved her all the more. Those not so fond of felines found her the mankiest cat that ever lived. They were wrong, of course.

Having said that, watching her catch a gecko and eat it wasn't an especially pleasing sight.

In honour of Mouth and all the pleasure she brought, I felt it necessary to write this and keep her alive in my memory.

What a cat.

Please put your glasses together for... Mouth!





(Thanks to Anoula for supplying the video and commentary, including the favourable line, "ugh she's doing that thing with her mouth".)

updates, Summers, bikerides, smoking slugs and much much more

Seeing as I tend to frequently berate people for their lack of blogging activity, I thought I should probably grace stroppy blog with some fresh material.

Since the last post I have been to Montreal, which was fantastic (despite the crustacean (with a prawn for a C) festival, would you believe it?), started a couple of new research projects, worked in Bath for the OU (yes, like every Summer), acquired a bike and played a lot of computer games. Hectic times.

Today I decided to make the most of a 5 minute break from the torrential rain and give the cycling a go (incidentally I only managed to get the seat down to an appropriate height yesterday - I haven't been totally lazy for the past week). It was much harder than I remember. Going up a hill almost killed me. I had chest ache from the cold air (NB: where is the Summer?) and didn't recover for ages. I much prefer going downhill. I am upset by this as I thought my fitness wasn't too abysmal. I went swimming a reasonable amount in Montreal and in Bath (where I braved the Olympic pool) and I still walk quite a bit. I even did a little jog when I took a dog out from the RSPCA place in Bath (and I returned it - most unlike my usual pet thieving activities). But the cycling was tough. As a kid/teen I had racer bikes, which were obviously extremely light, and my new bike is a hefty mountain thing. Maybe that's why. Any reassurance would be welcomed.

I had a great time whilst in Bath, which was a lovely surprise as work has been so busy lately that I was viewing it as a chore on the way (the journey might have contributed to that*). Sleep deprivation from excessive socialising takes it toll though - tutors and students alike descend into a giggling frenzy over just about anything after spending merely hours at a Summer School. Evidence of this is posted below. Every night on the way back to the halls in which we were staying, was a mass slug exodus. Quite often you'd be able to spy slugs spooning (prompting the popular game, "slug or slag?") Below you will see a mighty slug having a cheeky smoke. And I found it hilarious.



(Apologies for the usual video quality - I mean in terms of darkness (as opposed to the fact it's of a smoking slug), which I cannot understand as the files are always fine pre-bloggering.)

Hopefully I'll get some sun soon though - am off on a girly holiday to Paros (Greek island) next week. Hurrah!


* Let's blog about train journey's then, seeing as it's been a while.

Leeds to Bath Spa: Should take about 4 hours, with just one change at Bristol Temple Meads. It's usually a fine journey on a Virgin train. However on this occasion I was delayed by 70 mins before setting off (apparently the result of overhead cable theft - I've been delayed for this reason about 3 times recently. What's so wondrous about the stuff? Copper or something?) so the trainy types decided to give up on the journey and terminate at Birmingham. Always a pleasure. So the station was especially busy. Needless to say the next train was delayed however it was surprisingly quiet. So when a man asked if he could sit next to me, I actually politely told him I'd prefer it if he sat elsewhere, as I was working on my laptop on the adjacent seat (the rest of the carriage was only half full so this shouldn't have been a problem for him). The man shouted at me, "Excuse me Madam but you have no right to tell me where I can and cannot sit..." blah blah blah. Not sure why he asked, really. He smelled. He sat down and started stroking my hair. Yes, he was a nut. He proceeded to chat/shout at me/himself for the next 90 mins. I couldn't get out as he had trapped me in the seat. I received endless sympathetic looks from fellow passengers. When I eventually arrived at Bristol, I somehow ended up on a delayed slow train to Bath which should have taken 10 mins, but instead took 45. I missed my briefing meetings and the week didn't start off optimistically. Luckily it all picked up from there. See why I find smoking slugs highly amusing?!

Qu'est-ce que c'est ? Crustaces !

About a month ago I went to Montreal, which was utterly fantastic, to attend the International Association for the Study of Dreams' annual conference. As predicted, it was full of an eclectic bunch and I spent my time schmoozing with the sleep scientists It was a very worthwhile conference (always a bonus, I find) with a lot of sun and swimming. Hurrah!









Most fortunately I had just missed the festival d'homards: the lobster festival. I didn't see a crustacean in the flesh (or the shell, or whatever) whilst there but there was plenty of evidence of their presence. A near miss!

I tell you, crustaceans are taking over the world.

Further evidence: I went out on Friday night with friends. After enjoying a meal and a few cocktails, I found something surprising in the ladies in Browns:



Yes, a tray of prawns. Surely you must now be convinced about the crustaceans!

Speaking of finding things in toilets (no this isn't going to take a turn for the vile), this sign greatly amused me, in the ladies at the University of Bath. Should bad grammar have warranted such amusement? And a photo?! (Please see previous post for a potential explanation of this.)