Bruce confirmed the test date and time back on 13th November.
Tuesday 11th December. 8.20am. Norris Green test centre.
The test lasts an hour and he liked an hour before hand for his student to warm up, hence if all went to plan the final lesson would start at 7:20am and by 9:20am Dave would legally be able to drive. Bruce also pointed out that a test at this time would very likely be much easier, since half of it would be waiting around in traffic. General driving was going well and with 7 more lessons before the finale Dave was confident. Focus could now go on the fine tuning work, aka reversing.
Dave had been secretly driving since september. He had planned to give Jean his license as a big christmas present. Along the way, she eventually found out about it, but Dave reasoned that a present doesn't have to be a surprise to be appreciated.
December 11th 2007: Test day: Dave had gone to bed around 10pm and woke up nice and early 7am, with enough time to eat breakfast and be nice and ready for the test. Bruce arrived 7:20, Dave jumped in the drivers seat and they were away. The drive to the test centre went ok, though for some reason Dave had suddenly developed the habit of flashing his lights every time he signalled left. Thankfully, after 5 or 6 flashes, the habit disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
The test centre was small and cold. Bruce and Dave waited quietly in the seating area. After a couple of minutes the examiners appeared.
“David Natsios,” said one lady.
The meeting was a little awkward. The lady introduced her self as Leslie. Dave went in for a handshake while she was just interested in getting Dave’s documents out of his other hand, she switched and went for the shake and Dave placed the documents in her handshake. It was a clumsy start.
The eye test was fine and the show me, tell me section was a walk over. No problems.
“Drive off when you’re ready.”
Dave checked all round and he was away. The drive was picture perfect. Signals, mirrors, speed, position, all perfect. Meeting situation occurred, Dave slowed, ready to stop, but there was enough room to take it slowly so forward he went.
The car suddenly stopped.
“There is a no entry sign there.”
The actually road had turned off to the left. Straight on had a no entry. In such a situation the examiner does not need to tell you to go left. There is no other choice.
The paint on the road had not been clear and Dave’s focus had been on the approaching car. But no entry meant no entry and when the examiner takes action that means only one thing.
Failed.
Dave continued left. A few seconds later, on a left emerge, Dave did all his observations correctly, had just enough time to get round and at that point in time wasn’t in the mood to wait. The car stopped again, but it made little difference. You can only fail each test once.
Leslie stayed quiet, so Dave asked the obvious, “Do we just drive back now or…?”
“Well, you have failed. You can chose to complete the test or we can stop here and get someone to come and collect you. I am only allowed to accompany you in exam conditions.”
The test went on. The drive in the second half was much less smooth. Dave was gutted. Still, the reverse round the corner was perfect and the reverse bay park was pretty good, although Leslie felt the need to say “You’re a little close to the red car”, which Dave had been aware of and was already fixing for, but techniquely meant he failed the test a third time. And just to kick sand in his eyes, she failed him a fourth time for forgetting to signal when stopping.
On a driving test you are allowed 16 minor faults, but no serious ones. Over the entire test, Dave finished with only 4 minor faults. Unfortuanately, he also had 4 that were marked as serious.
He had failed. Failed Bruce. Failed himself. Failed Jean. He would never be able to honestly say he passed first time.
Dave was not used to failing. It did not feel good.
But live and learn.
Now what on Earth could he get Jean for Christmas?
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
Lies, Damned Lies and Statistics.
Stare. Think. Scratch head. Stare. Idea! Research (Wikipedia). R program. Program fails. Scratch head. Rewrite. Fails. Rewrite. Graph!
And repeat.
Dave was going well. His pile of graphs got bigger by the day. Such pretty things, even his supervisor had fallen for them. So, so pretty.
However, after the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months and the months turned into years, Dave finally decided perhaps he should actually do some statstics for his statistics PhD, to add to his pretty pretty graphs. Therein lied his mistake.
"What? That can't be right." Nope, when Dave spoke to himself it was almost always a bad sign.
The statistics suggested his results were wrong. He checked again. And again. And again. How could it be? The graphs were so very very pretty.
Defeated, with only five minutes before his meeting with both supervisor and sponsor, why, oh why, had he checked the stats?
Dave now had several options, most of which involved faking his own death, faking his results or coming clean. The fool chose to come clean.
"Hmm.." said his supervisor.
There were several possible explanations as to what happened next. Perhaps the supervisor felt sorry for the student. Perhaps he thought stupid student makes him look bad. Perhaps he was still thinking about the pretty pretty graphs. Or perhaps he wasn't really paying attention.
In any case, the facts were brushed to one side, some other tests were suggested and the conversation continued as if it had never happened.
Ah the beauty of statistics. If at first you don't succeed, just keep changing the test until you find one that agrees with you. And if THAT fails, create a whole new test.
Phew.
And repeat.
Dave was going well. His pile of graphs got bigger by the day. Such pretty things, even his supervisor had fallen for them. So, so pretty.
However, after the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months and the months turned into years, Dave finally decided perhaps he should actually do some statstics for his statistics PhD, to add to his pretty pretty graphs. Therein lied his mistake.
"What? That can't be right." Nope, when Dave spoke to himself it was almost always a bad sign.
The statistics suggested his results were wrong. He checked again. And again. And again. How could it be? The graphs were so very very pretty.
Defeated, with only five minutes before his meeting with both supervisor and sponsor, why, oh why, had he checked the stats?
Dave now had several options, most of which involved faking his own death, faking his results or coming clean. The fool chose to come clean.
"Hmm.." said his supervisor.
There were several possible explanations as to what happened next. Perhaps the supervisor felt sorry for the student. Perhaps he thought stupid student makes him look bad. Perhaps he was still thinking about the pretty pretty graphs. Or perhaps he wasn't really paying attention.
In any case, the facts were brushed to one side, some other tests were suggested and the conversation continued as if it had never happened.
Ah the beauty of statistics. If at first you don't succeed, just keep changing the test until you find one that agrees with you. And if THAT fails, create a whole new test.
Phew.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Vicky Weir
Vicky was diagnosed with breast cancer Friday 27th October 2006, 3 weeks before her 40th birthday. Her little girl Iona was 5 at the time and she had been with her partner Martin for exactly 2 years, they met through speed dating.
Vicky was full of life. She brought fun and joy to everyone she met and even to some people she never met, myself included. When Vicky was first diagnosed she started writing an online journal (http://vickyweir.blogspot.com). I know her through these words.
They say you can judge a person by their friends. If this is the case then Vicky was a very fine lady. Her blog had more readers each day than mine had in a year, and this was only including those who knew her well enough to leave a comment. I could never think of any comment to add. I still don't know what to say and this entry does not do justice to how I feel or who she was.
Despite fighting this every step of the way and clinging to life with every breath, Vicky's cancer spread. She passed away this morning, November 14th 2007, 3 days before her 41st birthday.
My thoughts and prayers are with Iona, Martin and the rest of her many, many close friends and family.
Vicky was full of life. She brought fun and joy to everyone she met and even to some people she never met, myself included. When Vicky was first diagnosed she started writing an online journal (http://vickyweir.blogspot.com). I know her through these words.
They say you can judge a person by their friends. If this is the case then Vicky was a very fine lady. Her blog had more readers each day than mine had in a year, and this was only including those who knew her well enough to leave a comment. I could never think of any comment to add. I still don't know what to say and this entry does not do justice to how I feel or who she was.
Despite fighting this every step of the way and clinging to life with every breath, Vicky's cancer spread. She passed away this morning, November 14th 2007, 3 days before her 41st birthday.
My thoughts and prayers are with Iona, Martin and the rest of her many, many close friends and family.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Dr? Who?
"...aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh..." sighed Dave. After bursting for a Wii for weeks it felt really good to finally have one.
Virgin had recieved a new stock of 28 Wiis. All 28 had sold out within 20 minutes. Jean had managed to get number 26. Mission accomplished.
After an incredibly fast weekend with Jean, Bian and a Wii, came Monday and Dave was presented with a new problem. Although he had work to do, he had no timetables, no set obligations, not even a meeting with his supervisor, nothing. For the next two weeks, he was completely his own boss. And the Wii was just sitting there...
On one shoulder was Evil Dave, dressed in the sluttiest little devil costume you could imagine. Very sexy, especially his legs. Evil Dave whispered little things into Dave's right ear.
"Two weeks free. Two weeks! Take this week off, go play Zelda! ... Zelda.... Zelda.... Zelda.... "
Thankfully, on Dave's other shoulder was Good Dave. Dressed in an adorable little angel costume, complete with halo. Still very sexy, but in more of a wedding day, white dress kind of way. Good Dave was there to whisper into Dave's left ear.
"Five minutes won't hurt. I mean, come on, it's Zelda! You only live once."
Could Dave regain focus? Would he ever complete his PhD? Would anyone who read this ever be able to get rid off the disturbing image of Evil Dave?
Find out, next time.
Virgin had recieved a new stock of 28 Wiis. All 28 had sold out within 20 minutes. Jean had managed to get number 26. Mission accomplished.
After an incredibly fast weekend with Jean, Bian and a Wii, came Monday and Dave was presented with a new problem. Although he had work to do, he had no timetables, no set obligations, not even a meeting with his supervisor, nothing. For the next two weeks, he was completely his own boss. And the Wii was just sitting there...
On one shoulder was Evil Dave, dressed in the sluttiest little devil costume you could imagine. Very sexy, especially his legs. Evil Dave whispered little things into Dave's right ear.
"Two weeks free. Two weeks! Take this week off, go play Zelda! ... Zelda.... Zelda.... Zelda.... "
Thankfully, on Dave's other shoulder was Good Dave. Dressed in an adorable little angel costume, complete with halo. Still very sexy, but in more of a wedding day, white dress kind of way. Good Dave was there to whisper into Dave's left ear.
"Five minutes won't hurt. I mean, come on, it's Zelda! You only live once."
Could Dave regain focus? Would he ever complete his PhD? Would anyone who read this ever be able to get rid off the disturbing image of Evil Dave?
Find out, next time.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
I really need a Wii.
Dave and Jean were over at Xiong and Re's new place for a meal. It was nice. Samuel, a privately hired chauffeur, had picked them up from their door, Xiong and Re had cooked everything and Kelly had been asked over to provide "entertainment". What more could anyone ask for?
The apartment was lovely. A modern flat, with incredibly comfortable sofas. Jean checked out every room in the place, including the housemates room who she had never met. Why Jean had felt the need to explore a strange man's room while he wasn't around was a mystery. Why Re had felt comfortable showing her around it was more so. Privacy was clearly not included in the rent.
The meal was delicious accompanied by standard coversation topics such as late night Porn and all male threesomes. Then came time to play some physical games with Kelly. Dave knew what Jean would say before she said it, and she said it before the games even began...
"Dave! I wanna Wii!"
The Wii is surely Nintendo's finest hour. Move over naked chef, the Wii is the ultimate answer to childhood (and adulthood) obesity, making excercise unbelievably fun. For anyone who doesn't know (welcome to Earth, feel free to take Bush when u leave), the Wii uses motion senses so that the player actually has to move to move their character. Playing Tennis you actually have to swing, racing cows you actually have to steer and boxing you actually have to punch. Alot.
By the end of the night Dave and Jean were aching all over. Their backs, shoulders, elbows and arms, but most of all their pockets. They had to have one.
"I really need a Wii."
But having a Wii was not a straight forward task. Even a year after it's release, the Wii, best selling console out of the three big boys, is completely sold out. No where in Liverpool city centre was there a place to have a Wii. Neither was there many places online. Although the Wii sells for £180, ebay was selling second hand ones for over £200. Clearly everyone was bursting for a Wii and with Christmas in the air things were not going to get better any time soon.
It looked like Dave and Jean would have to wait.
The apartment was lovely. A modern flat, with incredibly comfortable sofas. Jean checked out every room in the place, including the housemates room who she had never met. Why Jean had felt the need to explore a strange man's room while he wasn't around was a mystery. Why Re had felt comfortable showing her around it was more so. Privacy was clearly not included in the rent.
The meal was delicious accompanied by standard coversation topics such as late night Porn and all male threesomes. Then came time to play some physical games with Kelly. Dave knew what Jean would say before she said it, and she said it before the games even began...
"Dave! I wanna Wii!"
The Wii is surely Nintendo's finest hour. Move over naked chef, the Wii is the ultimate answer to childhood (and adulthood) obesity, making excercise unbelievably fun. For anyone who doesn't know (welcome to Earth, feel free to take Bush when u leave), the Wii uses motion senses so that the player actually has to move to move their character. Playing Tennis you actually have to swing, racing cows you actually have to steer and boxing you actually have to punch. Alot.
By the end of the night Dave and Jean were aching all over. Their backs, shoulders, elbows and arms, but most of all their pockets. They had to have one.
"I really need a Wii."
But having a Wii was not a straight forward task. Even a year after it's release, the Wii, best selling console out of the three big boys, is completely sold out. No where in Liverpool city centre was there a place to have a Wii. Neither was there many places online. Although the Wii sells for £180, ebay was selling second hand ones for over £200. Clearly everyone was bursting for a Wii and with Christmas in the air things were not going to get better any time soon.
It looked like Dave and Jean would have to wait.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Housewife Boy.
It wasn't everyday one discovered they had a special ability. A super human power. Dave had suspected it for a few weeks now, but today it had surely been proven beyond all reasonable doubt.
"... oh, Chin might be round in a bit..."
Jean often threw these little surprises Dave's way. She wouldn't mention until the last possible moment, and sometimes not even then, if they were expected guests or had plans to go somewhere. This time however, Dave had expected it all along. He had cleaned the house top to bottom.
In fact, the last 5 times Dave had cleaned the house had co-insided perfectly with the last 5 surprise visits. Dave would feel the need to have a tidy house and then boom, a visitor would see it. Although Dave hadn't been given any clues, he had been constantly wondering who would drop by today as he vacuumed like a madman.
It was obvious he had a gift. He wasn't entirely sure if his tidying created the surprise visits or if he had the ability to "know" when a tidying was required, but he clearly had a gift.
But with great gifts came great responsibilty. He must put these new found powers to good use.
He was... Housewife Boy!
(Should any big shot movie producer happen across this, the movie rights for "Housewife Boy" are available, get in touch, we'll do business.)
"... oh, Chin might be round in a bit..."
Jean often threw these little surprises Dave's way. She wouldn't mention until the last possible moment, and sometimes not even then, if they were expected guests or had plans to go somewhere. This time however, Dave had expected it all along. He had cleaned the house top to bottom.
In fact, the last 5 times Dave had cleaned the house had co-insided perfectly with the last 5 surprise visits. Dave would feel the need to have a tidy house and then boom, a visitor would see it. Although Dave hadn't been given any clues, he had been constantly wondering who would drop by today as he vacuumed like a madman.
It was obvious he had a gift. He wasn't entirely sure if his tidying created the surprise visits or if he had the ability to "know" when a tidying was required, but he clearly had a gift.
But with great gifts came great responsibilty. He must put these new found powers to good use.
He was... Housewife Boy!
(Should any big shot movie producer happen across this, the movie rights for "Housewife Boy" are available, get in touch, we'll do business.)
Monday, August 27, 2007
BBQ
Bank Holiday Monday, time for a break.
Dave and Jean spent the morning with two of Jean's friends having a BBQ.
The BBQ followed the usual pattern, 3hrs trying to get the fire going, followed by a fire big enough to be seen from space, followed by tasty chicken.
In addition to the standard BBQ joys, Dave also had the pleasure of the guessing game, since the conversation was almost entirely in Chinese.
".... I saw some things I really shouldn't have saw...."
"... liu ge nan..." (six males)
"... qiao ke li...." (chocolate)
"... hao bu hao kan?..." (Did it look good?)
Dave had no idea what they were talking about, but he was fairly certain his version of the conversation was more entertaining than theirs.
Dave and Jean spent the morning with two of Jean's friends having a BBQ.
The BBQ followed the usual pattern, 3hrs trying to get the fire going, followed by a fire big enough to be seen from space, followed by tasty chicken.
In addition to the standard BBQ joys, Dave also had the pleasure of the guessing game, since the conversation was almost entirely in Chinese.
".... I saw some things I really shouldn't have saw...."
"... liu ge nan..." (six males)
"... qiao ke li...." (chocolate)
"... hao bu hao kan?..." (Did it look good?)
Dave had no idea what they were talking about, but he was fairly certain his version of the conversation was more entertaining than theirs.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
AWOL
It had started out as an ordinary day. Dave had slept till noon and Jean had woke him with complaints about a lack of help around the house. Dave had then yawned and went back to sleep till one.
It had continued into an ordinary bus journey. Dave and Jean sitting hand in hand on an Arriva number 10. Possibly a 10A. The journey ended in the usual fashion with the bus stopping, the doors opening and Dave and Jean stepping off into the big bad world...
The phrase "What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours," is widely known. The reality is that it takes far less than 24 hrs for things to change. Blink and you'll miss it.
... "Where's my bag?"...
Jean's bag was, of cause, still on the Arriva 10. Possibly 10A. The bad news was that it contained Jean's mobile, address book, wallet, money, keys, stuff for work and various sentimental items.
The good news was that it had Jean's day rider ticket, so it could stay on the bus all day without being kicked off. Heck it could even switch busses as many times as it liked.
The overall cost of replacing the bag seemed likely to be in the range of at least 100 pounds, which wasn't great. Dave would now need to chase up cancelling various things, replacing things and trying desperately to locate the bag through the lost and found, though early efforts had all led to nought.
On the way home, an Ambulance drove noisely by and quickly disappeared into the distance. Someone, somewhere, was in serious need of help. Dave wondered how long the accident had taken to happen.
Blink and you'll miss it.
Dave and Jean should count themselves lucky.
It had continued into an ordinary bus journey. Dave and Jean sitting hand in hand on an Arriva number 10. Possibly a 10A. The journey ended in the usual fashion with the bus stopping, the doors opening and Dave and Jean stepping off into the big bad world...
The phrase "What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours," is widely known. The reality is that it takes far less than 24 hrs for things to change. Blink and you'll miss it.
... "Where's my bag?"...
Jean's bag was, of cause, still on the Arriva 10. Possibly 10A. The bad news was that it contained Jean's mobile, address book, wallet, money, keys, stuff for work and various sentimental items.
The good news was that it had Jean's day rider ticket, so it could stay on the bus all day without being kicked off. Heck it could even switch busses as many times as it liked.
The overall cost of replacing the bag seemed likely to be in the range of at least 100 pounds, which wasn't great. Dave would now need to chase up cancelling various things, replacing things and trying desperately to locate the bag through the lost and found, though early efforts had all led to nought.
On the way home, an Ambulance drove noisely by and quickly disappeared into the distance. Someone, somewhere, was in serious need of help. Dave wondered how long the accident had taken to happen.
Blink and you'll miss it.
Dave and Jean should count themselves lucky.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
8 Today
Saturday August 4th 2007 at 6pm was Emma's party to celebrate her 8th Birthday.
Alan and Emily were a little late, Peter and Rachel were later, John's mum and dad were reasonably on time and Dave was a half hour early and had helped Emma to finish most of the sweets before the others had arrived.
Emma had all her new toys lined up on display and seemed incredibly happy with them all. Dave added a fairy playset to the collection, Alan and Emily came in with a pair of fairies and Peter and Rachel had a fairy Bratz horse to deliver, which went rather well with her new fairy Bratz doll. There seemed to be some kind of common theme, but Dave couldn't put his finger on it. Strangely, they had all chosen their gifts independently.
After a few hours of sweets, chit chat, a crazy 8-year old and some wrestling videos which made everyone realise their age, Dave got a lift from Alan back home. It was a lovely day.
A little later he recieved a text:
"Daved thak yow foor my presents lovv emma"
"Happy Birthday Emma. Hope you had a great one."
Alan and Emily were a little late, Peter and Rachel were later, John's mum and dad were reasonably on time and Dave was a half hour early and had helped Emma to finish most of the sweets before the others had arrived.
Emma had all her new toys lined up on display and seemed incredibly happy with them all. Dave added a fairy playset to the collection, Alan and Emily came in with a pair of fairies and Peter and Rachel had a fairy Bratz horse to deliver, which went rather well with her new fairy Bratz doll. There seemed to be some kind of common theme, but Dave couldn't put his finger on it. Strangely, they had all chosen their gifts independently.
After a few hours of sweets, chit chat, a crazy 8-year old and some wrestling videos which made everyone realise their age, Dave got a lift from Alan back home. It was a lovely day.
A little later he recieved a text:
"Daved thak yow foor my presents lovv emma"
"Happy Birthday Emma. Hope you had a great one."
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Problem Gambling
With the new super Casinos on the horizon, stories of gambling addicition became increasingly common. The list of people who had lost everything on the role of a dice, then stole more to lose on the next role, seemed surprisingly large, with new names added all the time. Dave had always been amazed at such stupidity. Little did he know, his name would soon be attached to the bottom.
It had started out friendly enough, a simple game of cards between friends, something to pass the time. The games grew longer, more frequent and came to their unavoidable destination. Gambling.
But this was not just small time gambling. Not just a few pound coins passed back and forth. No. The stakes were far higher.
The sentences,
"Whoever loses this game has to wash the dishes!"
and
"Whoever loses this game has to eat all the leftovers!"
became increasingly common.
Like any true addict, Dave found he couldn't stop. Having lost once, he would gamble on who would clean the dishes the next day and then the next!
Now, having washed the dishes three days straight and standing in front of a mountain of plates, pots and greesy pans, Dave knew he had a problem.
Still, it could be worse.
Bian now weighed 40 stone.
It had started out friendly enough, a simple game of cards between friends, something to pass the time. The games grew longer, more frequent and came to their unavoidable destination. Gambling.
But this was not just small time gambling. Not just a few pound coins passed back and forth. No. The stakes were far higher.
The sentences,
"Whoever loses this game has to wash the dishes!"
and
"Whoever loses this game has to eat all the leftovers!"
became increasingly common.
Like any true addict, Dave found he couldn't stop. Having lost once, he would gamble on who would clean the dishes the next day and then the next!
Now, having washed the dishes three days straight and standing in front of a mountain of plates, pots and greesy pans, Dave knew he had a problem.
Still, it could be worse.
Bian now weighed 40 stone.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Careers Workshop
Monday, July 16th, Dave woke early, staggered out of bed and rushed out the door, thankfully pausing just long enough to put on clothes. He was off to the University of Liverpool's GRAD school Careers Workshop week in Edge Hill University, where he would stay for the next two and a half days.
After signing in and picking up his keys, he had a short break to check out his accomadation. His initial thought of "So this is why some students kill themselves" described it perfectly. It was a small plain room. A bed, a closet, a desk, nothing more. No room to fit anything more if you wanted to. The bed seemed on the small side even for a single, and it squeeked with every movement. The bed sheets were of a questionable nature and the pillow was waffer thin. Attached to the room was a small bathroom, toilet, sink and shower. The shower was fun. It took a remarkably long time to heat up, then quickly went from icy cold to bubbling hot.
As much as Dave wanted to just hang out and relax in his new crib, he was here to work and day one was about to begin.
The workshop was a very mixed event. From the people presenting, the people attending and the subjects on study it was mixed in every possible way. It ranged from CV building and mock interviews to seemingly pointless "fun" team games. In the first evening there was a chill out session complete with pub quiz and in the second a hardcore dancing session resulting in bruising and blisters for several people. Dave picked up some wonderful advice to advance his career, such as "wear pink", "get drunk" and "sleep with people for publicity".
Dave's main interest during the three days was not so much what the presenters were saying, but how his fellow PhD students responded. A large amount of them seemed to hate the whole thing with a passion. Dave, who very rarely hated anything with a passion and prefered to just make the most of it and get whatever cheap laughs were available, found their attitude rather amusing. Yes, it was a bit silly and pointless at times, but it had to be done, so why not be silly and pointless in a mature way rather than pointlessly and sillily complaining about pointless and silly performances, if that makes sense.
Another thing Dave picked up on was how strange a thing confidence was. Dave did very little in his spare time, he found it very difficult to talk to new people, conversation did not come naturally to him, he had no idea what he would do next in life, his written work was apparently abysmal and his supervisor told him on a weekly basis how awful his PhD was. Despite studying a PhD in statistics, Dave had failed to answer even one statistics related question asked by other students there. In comparison, another student there had been to Cambridge, was a Scout Leader, played Tenis tournements, badminton, swimming, kayaking, etc, etc, played 5 instruments, several of which were self taught, had a job, career goals, owned a house and was doing a PhD part time. What Dave found bizare was that when the two of them spoke, it was Dave who came across as the confident one. In fact, Dave had somehow managed to sound fairly confident throughout the whole event. He had even fooled at least one person into thinking he was "a good comunicator". How he had pulled that off he had no idea.
After a long hard day, Dave got back to his room and collasped onto his bed. Of cause, being used to a double bed and being very tired, he misjudged his fall going head first into the wall. That hurt. Thankfully, no one was around to see that moment of stupidity.
No one would ever know.
After signing in and picking up his keys, he had a short break to check out his accomadation. His initial thought of "So this is why some students kill themselves" described it perfectly. It was a small plain room. A bed, a closet, a desk, nothing more. No room to fit anything more if you wanted to. The bed seemed on the small side even for a single, and it squeeked with every movement. The bed sheets were of a questionable nature and the pillow was waffer thin. Attached to the room was a small bathroom, toilet, sink and shower. The shower was fun. It took a remarkably long time to heat up, then quickly went from icy cold to bubbling hot.
As much as Dave wanted to just hang out and relax in his new crib, he was here to work and day one was about to begin.
The workshop was a very mixed event. From the people presenting, the people attending and the subjects on study it was mixed in every possible way. It ranged from CV building and mock interviews to seemingly pointless "fun" team games. In the first evening there was a chill out session complete with pub quiz and in the second a hardcore dancing session resulting in bruising and blisters for several people. Dave picked up some wonderful advice to advance his career, such as "wear pink", "get drunk" and "sleep with people for publicity".
Dave's main interest during the three days was not so much what the presenters were saying, but how his fellow PhD students responded. A large amount of them seemed to hate the whole thing with a passion. Dave, who very rarely hated anything with a passion and prefered to just make the most of it and get whatever cheap laughs were available, found their attitude rather amusing. Yes, it was a bit silly and pointless at times, but it had to be done, so why not be silly and pointless in a mature way rather than pointlessly and sillily complaining about pointless and silly performances, if that makes sense.
Another thing Dave picked up on was how strange a thing confidence was. Dave did very little in his spare time, he found it very difficult to talk to new people, conversation did not come naturally to him, he had no idea what he would do next in life, his written work was apparently abysmal and his supervisor told him on a weekly basis how awful his PhD was. Despite studying a PhD in statistics, Dave had failed to answer even one statistics related question asked by other students there. In comparison, another student there had been to Cambridge, was a Scout Leader, played Tenis tournements, badminton, swimming, kayaking, etc, etc, played 5 instruments, several of which were self taught, had a job, career goals, owned a house and was doing a PhD part time. What Dave found bizare was that when the two of them spoke, it was Dave who came across as the confident one. In fact, Dave had somehow managed to sound fairly confident throughout the whole event. He had even fooled at least one person into thinking he was "a good comunicator". How he had pulled that off he had no idea.
After a long hard day, Dave got back to his room and collasped onto his bed. Of cause, being used to a double bed and being very tired, he misjudged his fall going head first into the wall. That hurt. Thankfully, no one was around to see that moment of stupidity.
No one would ever know.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Dad
They had finally caught him. The Giant Greek Monkey, thought by many to be a myth. They had caught him and operated on him, removed the tumour from his bladder and forced him to lie around for several days to recover. The operation had been a complete success, though they would keep an eye on the rare specimen just to be safe.
Dave and Jean watched as the animal turned and struggled, anxious to be free of the various tubes sticking in various places, desperate to be rid of the annoying drip, longing, hopelessly longing to return to the wild where he belonged.
This Monkey was, of cause, Dave's father.
"Dad, can we get you anything? Anything at all? Food, drink? A Pizza?"
"No, no," grumbled the beast, "I'm fine."
"Some coke?"
"Yes."
When the couple returned with a large amount of coke the Monkey's eyes finally lit up, clearly reminded of the rivers of coke from back home. The pleasure was short lived, however, when the nurse informed him no fizzy drinks.
"Dad, can we get you anything else? Anything at all? Food, drink? A Pizza?"
"No, no," grumbled the beast, "I'm fine."
The Monkey's other son, Alan, showed up a little later. The brothers and Jean asked several more times if he wanted anything and eventually gave up. Alan got down to the more important task of taking the p*ss, Dave laughed and Jean fell asleep. The Monkey longed for home more and more with each passing moment.
At the end of visiting hours, Dave's dad turned to the brothers and said, "Why didn't you buy me anything to eat? I'll be hungry in an hour."
In his weakened state he probably would have been alot easier to kill. The thought clearly crossed both the brothers' minds.
They convinced the nurses to extend visiting hours a little longer, picked up a ham and pineapple pizza and delivered it.
"Enjoy."
Dave and Jean watched as the animal turned and struggled, anxious to be free of the various tubes sticking in various places, desperate to be rid of the annoying drip, longing, hopelessly longing to return to the wild where he belonged.
This Monkey was, of cause, Dave's father.
"Dad, can we get you anything? Anything at all? Food, drink? A Pizza?"
"No, no," grumbled the beast, "I'm fine."
"Some coke?"
"Yes."
When the couple returned with a large amount of coke the Monkey's eyes finally lit up, clearly reminded of the rivers of coke from back home. The pleasure was short lived, however, when the nurse informed him no fizzy drinks.
"Dad, can we get you anything else? Anything at all? Food, drink? A Pizza?"
"No, no," grumbled the beast, "I'm fine."
The Monkey's other son, Alan, showed up a little later. The brothers and Jean asked several more times if he wanted anything and eventually gave up. Alan got down to the more important task of taking the p*ss, Dave laughed and Jean fell asleep. The Monkey longed for home more and more with each passing moment.
At the end of visiting hours, Dave's dad turned to the brothers and said, "Why didn't you buy me anything to eat? I'll be hungry in an hour."
In his weakened state he probably would have been alot easier to kill. The thought clearly crossed both the brothers' minds.
They convinced the nurses to extend visiting hours a little longer, picked up a ham and pineapple pizza and delivered it.
"Enjoy."
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Consequence of Insulting Sod's Law
Dave woke early, he had a dentist appointment at 10:15am. He had not been to this dentist before. He left with plenty of time to get there and, despite getting lost for a while, still arrived with almost 30 min to spare.
He sat down in the waiting area and banged his head on an awkwardly positioned cabinet.
After almost an hour wait, he went in to see the dentist.
"I've been told I need root canal work done."
"Oh..." said the dentist, and then she explained that due to the cost of root canal work, she was unable to offer it. Dave would need to go elsewhere.
Having wasted his morning, Dave swung back to Uni where he would meet his supervisor. There he spent the majority of his afternoon learning how inadequate his PhD work currently was.
"I remember my other student, Alex, he let me down enormously," his supervisor told him, "You remind me alot of him."
Onwards, Dave jumped on a bus to work. Here, dispite most of the bus being empty, a lady of aproximately 55 years of age, very drunk and ugly, decided to sit next to Dave.
"I want you up inside me," she informed Dave
"Go away," said Dave.
The conversation continued like this for the majority of the journey, a journey which usually takes 10 - 20 min, but for some reason today took half an hour.
"Why don't you wanna sh'.. me?" she asked
"There are too many reasons to list, go away, there are plenty of empty seats, pick one."
She swayed back and forth, half way between failing to look sexy and almost falling over, the result was almost comical. Most of her words were too badly slurred to be understood, but the occasional sentence came out.
"I wanna f**k you."
"That will NEVER happen, you're replusive, go away."
Eventually, a kind gentleman getting off the bus stole her glasses as he walked past and informed her if she wanted them back she would have to come and get them. She finally left. Dave thanked the man from the bottom of his heart.
Next up, as he went door to door, it started to piss down.
And the perfect end to the perfect day, he got a paper cut.
He sat down in the waiting area and banged his head on an awkwardly positioned cabinet.
After almost an hour wait, he went in to see the dentist.
"I've been told I need root canal work done."
"Oh..." said the dentist, and then she explained that due to the cost of root canal work, she was unable to offer it. Dave would need to go elsewhere.
Having wasted his morning, Dave swung back to Uni where he would meet his supervisor. There he spent the majority of his afternoon learning how inadequate his PhD work currently was.
"I remember my other student, Alex, he let me down enormously," his supervisor told him, "You remind me alot of him."
Onwards, Dave jumped on a bus to work. Here, dispite most of the bus being empty, a lady of aproximately 55 years of age, very drunk and ugly, decided to sit next to Dave.
"I want you up inside me," she informed Dave
"Go away," said Dave.
The conversation continued like this for the majority of the journey, a journey which usually takes 10 - 20 min, but for some reason today took half an hour.
"Why don't you wanna sh'.. me?" she asked
"There are too many reasons to list, go away, there are plenty of empty seats, pick one."
She swayed back and forth, half way between failing to look sexy and almost falling over, the result was almost comical. Most of her words were too badly slurred to be understood, but the occasional sentence came out.
"I wanna f**k you."
"That will NEVER happen, you're replusive, go away."
Eventually, a kind gentleman getting off the bus stole her glasses as he walked past and informed her if she wanted them back she would have to come and get them. She finally left. Dave thanked the man from the bottom of his heart.
Next up, as he went door to door, it started to piss down.
And the perfect end to the perfect day, he got a paper cut.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Dream On
Last night Dave had a dream.
He dreamt that he was back at his old junior school, a school which in real life has now been demolished. It was just as he had remembered it. A school kid came up to him and asked him why he was still here and Dave suddenly realised it was all a dream, but he didn't want to wake up, he wanted to look around while he still could. It was a pleasant trip down memory lane.
He went over to a small cabinet and started looking at the things there. He picked something up, he later couldn't remember what it was, but he looked at the bottom. There was a serial number. 112116. He repeated it to himself several times. He wanted to remember it. See if it was a real serial number in real life. 112116.
Suddenly the 2 moved, dreams were like that, so Dave wasn't too concerned. It was now 121116. The 2 moved back and forth a few more times, but no other change occured. 112116, 121116, 112116, 121116....
Dave, finally sure he would remember the numbers on waking, continued his look around his childhood memories.
Eventually, he woke up.
He did indeed remember the numbers on waking, and, although in the real world he thought it alot sillier than his dream self, he decided to do a quick google search.
112116
The first page that jumped up was "Prime Curios!", a site which had unusual facts about Prime numbers. It said:
"One of only two six digit integers, abcdef, that has the property that both (abcdef)/(a+b+c+d+e+f) and (abcdef)/(a*b*c*d*e*f) are both prime. Coincidentally, they are the same prime. "
Interesting, if you like that kind of thing, but it was about to get a whole lot stranger...
121116
The second page that jumped up was, again, "Prime Curios!". Dave simply could not believe his eyes....
"The larger, of only two six-digit integers, abcdef, that has the property that both (abcdef)/(a+b+c+d+e+f) and (abcdef)/(a*b*c*d*e*f) are both prime. Coincidentally, they are the same prime. "
The words "only two" hit him like a ton of bricks. There were 900,000 possible 6 digit numbers. Only two of them had this property. To get 1 of them was fairly meaningless, since most numbers have some kind of property, but to get both? And "only" both?
Dave was certain he had never heard of either of these numbers before.
That was spooky.
He dreamt that he was back at his old junior school, a school which in real life has now been demolished. It was just as he had remembered it. A school kid came up to him and asked him why he was still here and Dave suddenly realised it was all a dream, but he didn't want to wake up, he wanted to look around while he still could. It was a pleasant trip down memory lane.
He went over to a small cabinet and started looking at the things there. He picked something up, he later couldn't remember what it was, but he looked at the bottom. There was a serial number. 112116. He repeated it to himself several times. He wanted to remember it. See if it was a real serial number in real life. 112116.
Suddenly the 2 moved, dreams were like that, so Dave wasn't too concerned. It was now 121116. The 2 moved back and forth a few more times, but no other change occured. 112116, 121116, 112116, 121116....
Dave, finally sure he would remember the numbers on waking, continued his look around his childhood memories.
Eventually, he woke up.
He did indeed remember the numbers on waking, and, although in the real world he thought it alot sillier than his dream self, he decided to do a quick google search.
112116
The first page that jumped up was "Prime Curios!", a site which had unusual facts about Prime numbers. It said:
"One of only two six digit integers, abcdef, that has the property that both (abcdef)/(a+b+c+d+e+f) and (abcdef)/(a*b*c*d*e*f) are both prime. Coincidentally, they are the same prime. "
Interesting, if you like that kind of thing, but it was about to get a whole lot stranger...
121116
The second page that jumped up was, again, "Prime Curios!". Dave simply could not believe his eyes....
"The larger, of only two six-digit integers, abcdef, that has the property that both (abcdef)/(a+b+c+d+e+f) and (abcdef)/(a*b*c*d*e*f) are both prime. Coincidentally, they are the same prime. "
The words "only two" hit him like a ton of bricks. There were 900,000 possible 6 digit numbers. Only two of them had this property. To get 1 of them was fairly meaningless, since most numbers have some kind of property, but to get both? And "only" both?
Dave was certain he had never heard of either of these numbers before.
That was spooky.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Gifts
Giving up gifts was not easy for Dave. Not easy at all. In fact, it was surprisingly difficult.
It had all looked so simply on paper. All he had to do was tell everyone they didn't need to get him anything any more, though they could donate to charity if they wished and that would be that. He had no real desire to recieve presents and it would be nice to make his little stand against the tide. Simple.
In practice it didn't work that way. People wanted to give him gifts. Giving gifts at birthdays and Christmas seems deeply, deeply associated with showing you care. People wanted to show they cared. Further, refusing gifts or asking not to recieve any seemed to insult people.
"My gifts aren't good enough?"
This was not the intention and completely not true. The gifts he had recieved were all top quality stuff which he was very thankful for. Why then did Dave not want any more?
Dave had two main problems with gifts.
Firstly, the fact that more money is spent on just the wrapping paper, never mind the gifts, every year than on charities is quite horrific. Add to this the amount of waste created by said wrapping paper, along with packaging etc. It just doesn't seem right.
Secondly, gifts do not equal love. Love equals love. Gifts can be a sign of love, but it's not always the case and it's certainly not the only way to show it. Dave wished he could live in a world where people could feel the love without the gifts.
Alas, this was not the case. People wanted to give and recieve and were hurt if this was taken away. Dave did not want to hurt anyone.
Perhaps some battles just weren't worth fighting.
It had all looked so simply on paper. All he had to do was tell everyone they didn't need to get him anything any more, though they could donate to charity if they wished and that would be that. He had no real desire to recieve presents and it would be nice to make his little stand against the tide. Simple.
In practice it didn't work that way. People wanted to give him gifts. Giving gifts at birthdays and Christmas seems deeply, deeply associated with showing you care. People wanted to show they cared. Further, refusing gifts or asking not to recieve any seemed to insult people.
"My gifts aren't good enough?"
This was not the intention and completely not true. The gifts he had recieved were all top quality stuff which he was very thankful for. Why then did Dave not want any more?
Dave had two main problems with gifts.
Firstly, the fact that more money is spent on just the wrapping paper, never mind the gifts, every year than on charities is quite horrific. Add to this the amount of waste created by said wrapping paper, along with packaging etc. It just doesn't seem right.
Secondly, gifts do not equal love. Love equals love. Gifts can be a sign of love, but it's not always the case and it's certainly not the only way to show it. Dave wished he could live in a world where people could feel the love without the gifts.
Alas, this was not the case. People wanted to give and recieve and were hurt if this was taken away. Dave did not want to hurt anyone.
Perhaps some battles just weren't worth fighting.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Happy Birthday Dave
Dave woke up feeling like s**t. His nose was blocked, his head was banging and his throat felt pretty rough. In a few hours he would need to give his annual speech in Uni, defending his PhD to the entire department, or face failing the course.
It was, of cause, Dave's 23rd birthday.
In addition to giving the speech, Dave had also been left in charge of setting the speech up. Of cause, the key required to get to the laptop went awol. Luckily he had started searching for it almost an hour early, because it wasn't found until 5 minutes late.
Finally ready, his flashkey decided that even though it had worked fine a few hours earlier, it wouldn't bother to work now. Thankfully, Dave had thought of this and had also emailed himself another copy of the file.
Show time.
30 -50 min the speech should last. Over an hour of constant questions later, Dave finally got a chance to sit down. His wife decided to take him out for a romantic meal for two.
During the meal, he recieved a phone call from his supervisor. He would be going on holiday for over a week and wanted to talk to Dave about how his speech went. Of cause, he wanted Dave to call him back, because it was costing him too much to talk on his mobile. Dave did so, and was told all the wonderful shortcomings of his speech and his work in general and how it all needed alot more added to it. A very long phone call, but Dave paid for it, so that was fine.
When the phone call had started the meal had not yet arrived. When the phone call had ended, Jean had already finished her meal (and half of his) and his food had gone cold.
"Happy Birthday Dave!"
Despite all this, Dave did manage to have a decent day. He recieved message after message from family and friends filled with hugs, snogs, congrats, best wishes and a million happy birthdays.
In all honesty, what more could anyone ask for?
It was, of cause, Dave's 23rd birthday.
In addition to giving the speech, Dave had also been left in charge of setting the speech up. Of cause, the key required to get to the laptop went awol. Luckily he had started searching for it almost an hour early, because it wasn't found until 5 minutes late.
Finally ready, his flashkey decided that even though it had worked fine a few hours earlier, it wouldn't bother to work now. Thankfully, Dave had thought of this and had also emailed himself another copy of the file.
Show time.
30 -50 min the speech should last. Over an hour of constant questions later, Dave finally got a chance to sit down. His wife decided to take him out for a romantic meal for two.
During the meal, he recieved a phone call from his supervisor. He would be going on holiday for over a week and wanted to talk to Dave about how his speech went. Of cause, he wanted Dave to call him back, because it was costing him too much to talk on his mobile. Dave did so, and was told all the wonderful shortcomings of his speech and his work in general and how it all needed alot more added to it. A very long phone call, but Dave paid for it, so that was fine.
When the phone call had started the meal had not yet arrived. When the phone call had ended, Jean had already finished her meal (and half of his) and his food had gone cold.
"Happy Birthday Dave!"
Despite all this, Dave did manage to have a decent day. He recieved message after message from family and friends filled with hugs, snogs, congrats, best wishes and a million happy birthdays.
In all honesty, what more could anyone ask for?
Monday, June 11, 2007
The Law of the Sod
With his wife away, Dave hadn't slept well at all. Try as he might he could just not get used to her absense. Still, she would only be gone for a week and he would sleep plenty on her return.
Now, with his wife finally back at his side, Dave once again could not sleep.
He had toothache.
"Bloody Sod and his stupid laws!"
Now, with his wife finally back at his side, Dave once again could not sleep.
He had toothache.
"Bloody Sod and his stupid laws!"
Friday, June 08, 2007
Third time lucky.
"Hey mum, what's up?"
"Nothing, just wanted to check how you were since Jean is away."
"I'm fine..."
"Are you sleeping OK?"
Jean was away in Birmingham for a work related training course. She'd been gone almost a week, in which time Dave had been lucky to get 6 hours sleep in a night. That his mum had guessed this straight off led him to believe he probably took after his mum, and that she herself had had a few sleepless nights whenever his dad had been away. Either that or he'd went on about it too much the last time he'd been away from Jean. Whichever.
Dave's sister was spring cleaning, better late than never, Dave's sister in law was almost a teacher and Dave's brother in law had quit smoking. Things were looking good. Dave's dad would be going into hospital for an operation, again, sometime early July. Hopefully, it'd be third time lucky.
"Jean's birthday is around then right?"
"Yup," said Dave
"She's going to be 25?"
"Yup."
"When I first met her she said she would have babies when she was 25."
"..."
"Dave?"
"Nothing, just wanted to check how you were since Jean is away."
"I'm fine..."
"Are you sleeping OK?"
Jean was away in Birmingham for a work related training course. She'd been gone almost a week, in which time Dave had been lucky to get 6 hours sleep in a night. That his mum had guessed this straight off led him to believe he probably took after his mum, and that she herself had had a few sleepless nights whenever his dad had been away. Either that or he'd went on about it too much the last time he'd been away from Jean. Whichever.
Dave's sister was spring cleaning, better late than never, Dave's sister in law was almost a teacher and Dave's brother in law had quit smoking. Things were looking good. Dave's dad would be going into hospital for an operation, again, sometime early July. Hopefully, it'd be third time lucky.
"Jean's birthday is around then right?"
"Yup," said Dave
"She's going to be 25?"
"Yup."
"When I first met her she said she would have babies when she was 25."
"..."
"Dave?"
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Jean... this says June...
Jean had passed her test, all the documents were ready, everything was all set to send away for her new unlimited Visa. The website mentioned a warning to say do not apply more than 28 days before your current visa runs out. The visa was suppose to be expiring near the begining of July, it was now June 3rd, everything was going according to plan.
Dave decided to check the date on the visa to see if they could send away now or if they had to wait another week.
"... hmmm... Jean... this says June not July... your visa expired two days ago..."
"Oh well, guess we'll just send it away now," said Jean (Note, these were not her exact words, but children could be reading this.)
So they calmly got all the finishing touches done and dusted and it was sent of the very next morning.
And they all lived happily ever after.
...hopefully.
Dave decided to check the date on the visa to see if they could send away now or if they had to wait another week.
"... hmmm... Jean... this says June not July... your visa expired two days ago..."
"Oh well, guess we'll just send it away now," said Jean (Note, these were not her exact words, but children could be reading this.)
So they calmly got all the finishing touches done and dusted and it was sent of the very next morning.
And they all lived happily ever after.
...hopefully.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Exam Stress
Dave had never worried about exams. He had never found any reason to worry. An exam was simply sitting down and answering questions. There were no "hard" questions, you either knew the answer or you didn't, and, lucky for Dave, he usually knew more than he didn't.
In fact, doing a PhD, Dave kind of missed the simple life of exams. And yet, during the past few weeks, one exam had given him more stress than every other examination he had ever taken all rolled into one. The really hard part was it wasn't his exam to take.
The result of his wife's Life in The UK test may very well determine his entire life and all he could do was sit outside the exam room and wait. And wait...
Liverpool central Library proved to be very poorly managed. The test is made up of 24 pointless questions answered on a computer with imediate results available and each person has a maximum of 45 min in which to complete it. The majority of people, pass or fail, finish it with at least 15 min to spare. So how did the Library manage to make the whole procedure last for over 2 hrs?
Dave waited...
Weeks and weeks of endless study for this examination, some of which involved Jean, and now it was just a very long 2 hours away from being over.
Finally the results were in, although in true Library style they were handed out one by one as slowly as possible. Finally the time came...
"Jing Luo?"
Jean rushed into the little room, was handed a piece of paper and came out with a smile.
It was a pass.
It was also the fakest looking certificate in the history of certificates. It was a normal paper A4 print off of Jean's details with the word "Pass" stamped on it.
"Keep this safe, we will not provide another copy," Jean was told as she left. 'I don't think I'll need one,' thought Jean, 'I could print off a dozen more myself.'
Still, a pass was a pass, and with the madness finally over, Dave and Jean met up with Macca for a Chinese and a Pint.
All in all 100% successful trip.
In fact, doing a PhD, Dave kind of missed the simple life of exams. And yet, during the past few weeks, one exam had given him more stress than every other examination he had ever taken all rolled into one. The really hard part was it wasn't his exam to take.
The result of his wife's Life in The UK test may very well determine his entire life and all he could do was sit outside the exam room and wait. And wait...
Liverpool central Library proved to be very poorly managed. The test is made up of 24 pointless questions answered on a computer with imediate results available and each person has a maximum of 45 min in which to complete it. The majority of people, pass or fail, finish it with at least 15 min to spare. So how did the Library manage to make the whole procedure last for over 2 hrs?
Dave waited...
Weeks and weeks of endless study for this examination, some of which involved Jean, and now it was just a very long 2 hours away from being over.
Finally the results were in, although in true Library style they were handed out one by one as slowly as possible. Finally the time came...
"Jing Luo?"
Jean rushed into the little room, was handed a piece of paper and came out with a smile.
It was a pass.
It was also the fakest looking certificate in the history of certificates. It was a normal paper A4 print off of Jean's details with the word "Pass" stamped on it.
"Keep this safe, we will not provide another copy," Jean was told as she left. 'I don't think I'll need one,' thought Jean, 'I could print off a dozen more myself.'
Still, a pass was a pass, and with the madness finally over, Dave and Jean met up with Macca for a Chinese and a Pint.
All in all 100% successful trip.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)