Year: 2003

A friend of mine has allowed me to read the draft of a book she’s been writing for the best part of the last year. I feel honoured to be trusted with this task – it’s heartwarming. I’ve been looking forward to getting hold of a copy.

Paul‘s given the inspiration – and the domain name – to produce an exciting new project over the next week: a new web site that’ll keep Aberites amused for some time to come. I’m keeping it tightly under wraps – even Paul doesn’t know what it’s actually going to be, yet – but if you’re looking for a clue, start with Penbryn-Hall.co.uk, a prank site I set up two and a half years ago.

It’s deeply satisfying to back-up a heap of stuff to a DVD and free up several gigabytes of hard drive space.

I have to go to work in a few hours, but I can’t sleep. I wish Claire was here.

And I thought I was supposed to be the ‘old fogie’!

I remember last semester that we’d have three or four films on a Troma Night, drinking until well past 2am. Tonight, it wasn’t even midnight before Kit, Liz, Adam and Bryn decided that it was past their bedtime. Disappointing.

I’ve found a supervisor for my major project, although he has stipulated the condition that I reduce the complexity of my proposed project, as he’s said it’s too ambitious. Needless to say, I didn’t point out to him that I’ve pretty much finished developing it already, and I just need to write the accompanying paper. Ah well. That’ll make this academic year all the sweeter.

Bought new jeans and socks to celebrate.

Claire‘s Dad is visiting for the weekend, which is nice. He’s also brought his new Jaguar, which is also nice.

Will post more soon. For now, I’m being dragged to bed by Claire. Goodnight, all;

Why is it that when people wake up during the night – to go to the toilet, for example – they almost certainly check their clock as they get back into bed, even if (a) this means going out of their way [sitting up and leaning over, or whatever] and (b) there is still no light streaming through the windows [therefore: it’s not even remotely near the morning anyway].

The only valid reason I can think of for this behaviour is to see how close it is to their alarm time, and, if it’s almost time to get up anyway, to get up – but if it’s still dark outside then it obviously isn’t anyway, so they needn’t bother. Knowing the time does not help you sleep, does it?

I’d be interested in a study in which people who frequently make 8am-ish starts and who can say that they have engaged in this behaviour have their alarm clocks replace with a specially-crafted alternative which does not show the time on the face between the time that the alarm is set and the time that it goes off. Volunteers for the study would have to use this special clock for several months and record instances of it changing their behavioural patterns – and any other comments – in a diary for submission at the end of the experiment (say a month later). Ideally the experiment would be performed at a time of year and location at which, for the people involved, their ‘usual’ alarm time fell shortly after sunrise, to eliminate oddities in the ‘light effect’ above, and would be repeated with different study groups around the year. No control group is necessary (technically, everybody has been part of one for the last ten years, so we’ll use them); instead, testimony will be collected from interested parties among the general populace and used during the analysis of results.

Just a thought. I’d be interested to see any conclusions and theories into why humans engage in this interesting behaviour.

Right: off to lectures.

I feel really stupid. Earlier this evening Claire desperately wanted my attention, and I pretty much ignored her, quite selfishly.

I absolutely adore her, and – away tonight as she is – now I’m missing her loads but it’s too late to call her and tell her so, and in any case she’s forgotten to take her mobile phone with her. I can’t sleep for waiting ’til the morning, when I can see her.

In other news, my suspicions were last night confirmed that Pink Floyd really does sound even better at a certain level of intoxication.

Going to try again to get some sleep;

By Sunday I’d caught Fresher’s Anthrax – a little like Fresher’s Flu but, as Kit reports, just that little bit more lethal. Hell: it was enough to make me bed-bound for a good few hours during the day, and that takes something. I blame lack of vitamins… I haven’t yet replaced my “litre of orange juice a day” I typically have at the office while I’m working full-time since returning to full-time education.

I’ve sat in on a few of Claire and Paul‘s lectures this first week. It’s amazing – as you study, you don’t realise how much you’ve learned until you really look back. I’ve also particularly enjoyed hearing Mark Ratcliffe, a lecturer in the department who primarily deals exclusively with the first year, teach again – his style is quite unusual and remarkable: eccentric, involving, comprehensive. Very impressive: I’d forgotten how good he was.

My friend Faye has launched her new personal web site, which kind-of confused me because I was under the impression that she was moving to a URL she asked to host with me. No matter, but I wonder why she changed her mind. In any case, go visit or don’t as you please.

Note to self: I need to find a supervisor for my proposed final year project – part of my dissertation – by Friday.

And I wasn’t all the things;
I tried to make believe I was.
And I wouldn’t be the one to kneel,
Before the dreams I wanted.
And all the talk and all the lies;
Were all the empty things disguised as me.
– “Sympathy”, The Goo Goo Dolls

The first half of Fresher’s Week I spent with Kit, Claire and the gang, selling hot dogs at the Fresher’s Fayre – an annual event at which the societies, sports clubs, and some independent businesses, make their presence known to all the new intake of students. The profits from these hot dog sales were donated to the Nightline here in Aberystwyth – a volunteer run student listening and information line.

Unfortunatley the powers that be thought otherwise of our plan, and as we set up stand on our second day – having just acquired a heap of new, fresh stock – we were told (by proxy) that the owners of the hall in which the event takes place were no longer happy with us selling food on the premises, as we had “left a mess on the previous day” (in actual fact, we’d merely left our equipment out, as we had been instructed to).

Nevertheless: with many phone calls and a lot of chasing around we were able to acquire a cheap 3Kw petrol generator, a bench, and extra gear, and by lunchtime we had a new stand – out in the car park (under somebody else’s jurisdiction). Quite impressively we still managed to make a profit – a benefitial donation to a most valuable organisation.

As if the fun weren’t enough, both Claire’s and my records – by an amazing coincidence – got mixed up by the Department of Computer Science, and neither of us were able to register for our courses in the usual manner, and instead spent the best part of a day chasing academics around the campuses, collecting signatures. Insanity.

It feels good to be back – properly – in academia again.

Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at an Elingsh uinervtisy, it deosn’t mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is that frist and lsat ltteer is at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae we do not raed ervey lteter by it slef but the wrod as a wlohe.