the Daily Grind: May 2004 Archives
Some funny things come through my mail box. I don't mean funny ha-ha, the kinds of things that wither and die under the scrutiny of the average dry or verging-on-non-existent sense of humour, but quirky. Which is why I was pleasantly mortified at receiving this absolutley spot-on (I wish) analysis of my MRI from him. By way of reassurance, and thank you for the concern, the scan was merely a common case of "student whoring his goods for money." They needed uncommonly stupid people to lie-in for an hour and a half, and rewarded said deficients with a cup of water and thirty two quid. Yes, £32, which is a little higher than minimum wage.
In other news, work was a non-event today as it was the members' day at the Chelsea Flower Show. Serving Pimms, strawberries, concept gardens and spectacular plants to the green-fingered and nouveau-riche for the 82nd time since 1862, Chelsea is easily the most famous home and garden show on the planet, and this year attracted 157 000 visitors. I didn't have time to meet them all, but did bump into four or five people I knew from London -- which was nice, and not unsurprising since all the gay people who weren't on Compton Street at lunch time seemed to be in the show grounds, flapping their wrists at gargantuan Begonias and specimen orchids -- whilst taking in general gorgeousness and good atmosphere over the course of a largely sunny and warm afternoon.
General gorgeousness and good atmosphere
plus mum and partners in crime
And my reflectionNow back in Cambridge, my feet are comfortably sore, and I have a mammoth strawberry plant sitting in the bay window; one of the exhibitors sold the plant to us then and there, which is utterly illegal since plants can only be removed from the show during the big sell-off that occurs on the last day; I was rather chuffed.
Today's lessons are that smiles are powerful, strawberry juice makes for convincing pavement blood, and bin bags can hide more than just body parts.
There has been a long period of abstinence for me, but the drought is set to continue for the same reason that it has been in place for the last few weeks... work, of course, but for a change it isn't proving a repetitive cycle of stellar effort and no reward, because for once I'm getting something real to look at; oodles of data with plenty of scope for interpretation, a number of potential follow-on analyses, and best yet, what I'm observing may be significant enough to merit a paper too. The thought of getting that produced before I'm even finished here is just a little bit encouraging, whether or not it actually happens.
Still, there's a lot of number crunching to be done -- the sort of stuff that would really turn on a biostatistician [alas, no, I'm disappointingly normal] -- and while it hurts, every analysis of variance, product-moment correlation coefficient and error margin I've turned out seems to confirm that I'm finally seeing something significant that I can work with, and that's, well, really bloody cheering.
Of course, all work and no play makes Jack a tired old hermit who clearly doesn't get out enough, so I've been making an effort to keep myself busy outside of the lab, rather than just flopping onto my bed and staring at the ceiling for my evening's entertainment. And what with the amazing weather of late, that has been especially easy; no fewer than three barbecues in the last three days, a couple of trips up and down the river by canoe, punt and even sans véhicule, not to mention weekday lunches spent out in the sunshine.
Spring is springingAll this comes in the week following Frank's visit to the UK with his travelling partner; the weather was fairly mediocre for much of that time, but hosting these lovely chaps for a night in Cambridge, before heading down to London for a big walkabout, was a real pleasure and diversion. We were even joined by this one for a spell, and I think that a pretty good time was had by all, though I'm really speaking for myself here; the previous few weeks were fairly rough, so the chance to escape, and in good company, was all the more special for me.
Crud, my intent to elaborate further has been scuppered by the lateness of the hour and my own tiredness. Alas, to bed. Someone take over please?
Today, the United Kingdom enjoyed a Bank Holiday. Today, I enjoyed work. A fool's take on deductive reasoning would have you believe that were I enjoying a Bank Holiday too, I would be the United Kingdom, but i) the only fool here isn't into playing smartass with his public, and ii) human rights aside, only in some parallel hell dimension could 45 000 people plausibly enter me on a daily basis [assuming a good year for tourism] [and the sex industry] [with which I share no affiliation whatsoever].
Said tourism is off to a great start with the arrival of an old friend, also New York's most depraved, on our turf today -- have a good stay, Frank and Phil -- I promised you bad weather, and so far so good, though this evening, we clearly have sun:
