A long week of skipping class and getting stuff done, and Northumberland — Weekend to Friday 18 November

First off, I would like to apologise for the parenthetical abuses on Thursday. I'd also like to apologise for the soul-killing that happened Thursday. I just kind of need to get this off my chest, because I'm terrible at telling stories out loud and I don't want to foist this on my flatmates. There are pictures of Northumberland at the end! Hang on until Friday!

This weekend all I did was sleep. I did take a walk in the fog, but that was fairly uneventful except for the part where I didn’t know where I was. Not to worry, I figured out where I was and only ambled down one dead end before I finally got back to the road with the cemetery. 

Anyway. Monday, I skipped english literature in favour of writing my assignment, and I got to 1200 words that night because of it. Apparently nothing happened at all in lecture, so all I regret is the possibility that my prof might ask why I skipped. Not because I feel guilty about skipping, but because she'll try to make me feel guilty about not having started my paper until approximately three days before it was due. She is of the opinion that she gives us a lot of useful information in an awesome way that we can really use on our assignments (not that useful, not that awesome, and there was nothing AT ALL on the topic that I picked), and she would sound so offended if she thought that I thought that the two months she gave us wasn't enough time. Okay, we read for my topic about two weeks before it was due, but okay, sure. That was more than enough time. And I would end up agreeing that her module is, like, the best thing ever when in fact it's the most horribly structured literature class I've ever taken. I feel like there were better authors during the seventeen hundreds. I'm sure of it. There had to have been. 

Tuesday I skipped history to work on the lit assignment. I got a late start because I stayed up late the night before trying to write, but I had a hard time getting many more words in, anyway. I was also on an apple cider craving, and I haven’t really seen it here. I need to check again, but I think I’m down to my last few packets, and I’m saving them for the next assignment and my history assignment. 

Wednesday, I agreed to meet Freya, the girl with whom I did extensive work on our last lab report. Before that, I read for my history seminar, went to my history seminar, and finished my essay. Win! I think the main problem was that there simply wasn’t enough to say about the criminals portrayed in the play that was related to a thesis that I could write down. When we finally started working on the lab report, it went slow. Neither of us really cares that much about electrophoresis (I usually like it, but nothing much is interesting in this class), and the results were bad, and I, at least, didn’t actually attend the lecture in which we may have learned how to interpret them. I'm not sure if that lecture even existed; the only slides up on Sunspace were ones from the seminar part. Again, there wasn't that much to say.

Quickly, before I get into Thursday, I need to draw attention to the fact that I really, really do like biochemistry. It freaks me out sometimes, like when I get oddly claustrophobic thinking about how tiny biological molecules are, and the fact that they are in an aqueous environment, so how small are water molecules, which have air dissolved amongst them... How big are the spaces between molecules, and what is in that space? How many tiny voids are in a glass of water... Are in me?

At that point, I usually have to take a massive deep breath because I realise I haven't been breathing. 

An xkcd comic that just came out really sums me up. I'm just posting the part relevant to me, but you can click the link at the beginning of the sentence to see the whole thing. It's about the type of map that people like based on what they're like, and the Peirce Quincuncial is really my thing.

No, seriously, I really love looking at hands. They are incredibly cool. To wrap this up, I really do love biochemistry. Please, please, do not take Thursday as me hating biochemistry. And there are pictures after, I promise. You can even skip Thursday, as I wish I had been able to do, and I won't care.

Thursday I finished up the lab report in the nick of time after skipping both lecture and seminar. Again. I'm really, really going to go to both next week. Really. At least this week, there was a greater purpose than sleeping in... After finishing, I went to lab, which was billed as a revision session (revision equals studying and/or reviewing here, something that I just got recently). I had high hopes of being able to leave early after being left pretty much to my own devices for a while and showing that I knew what I was doing, as happened last time we had a workshop instead of lab. Distressingly, this was not the case. Instead of Monica, the condescending lecturer who says "lineweaver" as if there's an extra R (linearweaver), we had the impossible little frenchman. I almost hope he reads this, because I think it would really clear the air between us. Unfortunately, he still has to grade two more lab reports and my final, so hopefully he never sees this. To put this in a small amount of perspective, I'm writing this after having an awesome day Friday. The post gets better, and I'm not really bitter and hateful.

Fact: I was never awfully fond of him. Initially, his inability to really express himself in english put a damper on the possibility of me liking him as a lecturer, and his subsequent displays of incompetence in understanding what anyone else is saying clinched a vague sense of dislike towards him. Normally, I can overlook this and we got along pretty well. My lack of experience with this university's procedures and previous classes seemed to put him off a little, but he was generally reasonable. Today, though, he was in a rotten mood. He snapped at everyone who came in late, which he doesn't do when it's a proper lab and time actually matters, and was generally irate and condescending. When he collected our lab reports, he grumbled over my lack of staple. A whole one lab report of mine has been stapled, and that was done by the library staff when we did that weird remote turn-in thing. I put my name on every page, and it's never been a problem before. I'm also kind of trying this thing where I don't spend money, so I haven't bought a stapler that I will just have to leave here because I already have one in my desk in Pasco. I was in a pretty good mood, and commented that I didn't have a stapler. 

"Buy one." Instantly, I was on the offensive. I went from a little nervous about how short my report was to stiff and speechless with rage in about a heartbeat. It was like that time in high school when I was literally shaking with fury when some smug little middle schooler punk insulted a friend who was doing something right. I don't usually get the urge to "slap that smug little look off your (demi-or-straight up-swearword) face". In fact, I think this has happened about twice in my whole life now (in real life; that scene in King Arthur where the bishop tells Arthur to bring his men home if he wants them to get their freedom doesn't really count because it was designed to do that to people; I looked for a video clip on youtube but couldn't find it). Twenty one years is kind of a long period of time to have something happen only twice. I don't really know why the impossible little frenchman brought this out in me today over something as stupid as a stapler. I know I respond poorly to insult and the "wrong" tone of voice, and, on occasion, an irate eyebrow twitch in my direction, but I can't help myself when it sneaks up on me. I'm not proud.

I quickly determined that I was unlikely to get out early because the impossible frenchman explains in great detail every single aspect of some questions (he actually went into the properties of light when explaining spectroscopy, using terrible metaphors and analogies. It was worse than Dr. Gårdestig the swedish physics professor; he started off with a random green beach to talk about waves. I still don't know where the beach came into it. His accent made it slightly hilarious (because the long e sound gets kind of turned into a short i sound, haha, he said a dirty word), but not funny enough to excuse the fact that this isn't helping anyone.) while skipping over others completely. One of the questions involved an equation that we'd never seen before, which was... messed up. Unless they're handing out an equations sheet, I don't want to see this nonsense on an exam. We haven't used this ever before, so don't put it on the exam. kthnxbai. 

He'd been slipping in composure throughout the slightly too long time that we were given to work on select questions, but he lost it about two questions in. Two guys didn't seem to be paying attention (was anyone?) to his oddly detailed and unhelpful explanation, so he "asked" if they wanted to leave. Of course they wanted to leave. Everyone did. We'd all been plotting it every time he walked out of the room, which he did quite a lot. In any case, the atmosphere in the room was awkward and chilly as Adam (not from my flat) and Jedward walked out rather triumphantly (although they still looked a little embarrassed; getting kicked out of class gets kind of old after grade school). This didn't stop Freya, who was giving me a ride home, from trying to talk to the girls at the end of the bench. Things got more and more awkward as the class dragged on. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. War was being declared on the impossible frenchman, who should have followed his country's historical precedent and surrendered. I did get a hint on how enzymes work, although I need to look that up sometime, but that was all that I gained from the class. That, and a growing sense of a firm dislike for the impossible frenchman, since the incredible rage and desire to actually inflict harm on someone else subsided pretty quickly. No more vague irritation (he really is the worst at explaining anything at all, and never seems to get when someone has decided that the topic would be best pursued with someone —anyone— else. All he does then is ask repeatedly "Do you understand" (left the question mark off on purpose; he doesn't really use it) until you give up on noncommittal grunting because you hate to lie and finally say "YES! I understand, and I really have to go now, I'm late for something, anything, please let me leave now." Sorry about the long parenthetical; I'll just end the "No more vague irritation" sentence now.). 

Another thing. Freya is the type of person who will interrupt boldly as a self-preservation and diversionary tactic. If she's bored, she just starts talking, whether over the person who's talking to her or to a person who's talking to someone else. She tried to save me from the frenchman last week when I was trying to figure out why I couldn't take an exam early, but nothing stops him when he's on a roll. In light of this, it's not surprising that she gave up listening to the frenchman in favour of talking to the girls at the end of the bench, although I was, at the time, a little surprised because the frenchman had just cracked down on Adam and Jedward talking. This is when I really started avoiding eye contact with everyone. I'm pretty passive aggressive; I'd have stayed to the end of the class no matter how irritating his voice was. Besides, he had already been short with me regarding the staples (and it still makes me angry a day later, wow), and I didn't want to make things worse, especially after I had almost inadvertently insulted his teaching style in a lab report and gotten a 0 on that particular section. It wasn't that bad, and the instructions really were scattered. How else was I supposed to explain the fact that our enzyme was probably cold because he just explained here and there that you were supposed to warm it up for a bit, and my lab partner for the day didn't hear it because she was already at the front getting the enzyme off the ice? It's not my fault that he's the worst at explaining. However, I was beginning to think that the animosity was not one sided, and that, like my former podmate hating me over the hair in the shower, he hated me for the lack of staples. I didn't want to make things worse, but it might have been too late. Frankly, I get the sneaky suspicion that he doesn't like any of us. Fact: no one in the class likes him, so it's unsurprising that he'd pick up on the low-level animosity at some point. We've tested this in karate, and multiple people directing emotion at someone does tend to affect the target. I was, in any case, on damage control, trying to make as few enemies as possible.

Freya, however, was going nuts. She hadn't eaten much all day, preferring to sleep over eating breakfast, and, as mood and gastrointestinal happiness levels are related, she was in a pretty foul mood. When the frenchman insisted on a break over the class's protestations that we'd rather power through the very last question and then be done, we made an attempt to sneak out. I do say we, because I wanted my ride and I'd already put my bag with my computer in her car. Impossible frenchman kept coming back into the room, though, and he asked Freya if she was going somewhere. 

I sensed danger, and kept my head down. Freya was all the way gone, though. She was hungry, she was cranky, she was tired, and she was leaving. And my bag was in her car, so I was leaving when she left. 

She replied that she was leaving, yes. She said something about her head and started around the frenchman, who had accosted her on his way in and her way out. I didn't see what he did, but I hope he didn't turn around when I hurried out the door behind Freya. I'm still a little nervous about how this will affect my grades. We signed the register, though, and he marked us down on some sort of personal register, so I don't think I can be counted as absent from lab. I'll be needing to keep my head down, though. No more skipping lectures, and I really need to study up on biochemistry stuff that will be on the exam in spite of never being in a lecture. Yes, I'm bitter about that. I'm trying not to be bitter at people, because I know myself, but I can be bitter about poorly constructed exams.

Friday! Friday! No more Thursday! If you skipped Thursday (and especially if you didn't), PICTURES!

Adam (from my flat, not the one who got kicked out of lab) had promised a week ago to take a few of us (limited by car space) to Northumberland. In the end, it was just Jessi, Felicity (whitworth senior art major from Clarkston, WA who lives next door who I had never even seen before coming to Sunderland), and me. 

We went through a tunnel under a river. Jessi saw a van coming straight at us on a skinny road and reacted by yelling "CAR! big!" This became something of a meme for us; why did she try to describe it? "Car! Big! Green!" "Car! Big! ...Uh, it has a white top!" (this was followed by "I was panicking even more because I couldn't tell if it was blue or white!"). Jessi was a pretty good sport about it. 

We picked up Adam's dog Lilligan (it always sounds like he's saying "Lillian") on the way to a castle with a beach. She's a jack russell terrier, which Adam had mentioned in his attempts to describe how hyper she gets, but she's also long-haired, which Adam didn't mention. I was expecting a dog that looked like wishbone, but she looks nothing like that unless she's wet. 

She does get very hyper. Adam's descriptions were a little bit over-the-top, but I think that he's trying to get himself out of the centre of discussion. Two of our favourite topics as a flat are Adam's dog and Adam's mum, one of whom he is very fond and one of whom he is rather embarrassed. I think he's out of danger from demands that we meet his mum thanks to introducing us to his dog. I think that it's because he's the only one of us whose dog and family are in driving range. Most of us feel that his mum would be pretty cool to meet, but Adam steadfastly refuses to accept this. This conversation regarding Adam's imitation of Lilligan happened, however, that really highlighted his feelings on his mum: 

Jessi: "It was hilarious!"

Adam: "I don't remember this at all."

Me: "You were trying to demonstrate how terrifying she is." 

Adam: "Are we talking about my mum now?"

Felicity: "I am so glad that that segue just happened." 

After getting Lilligan, we headed for the coast and castle Bamburgh, which took a surprisingly long time. When we finally got there, though, it was well worth it.

This is the Bamburgh castle.

There were a whole bunch of island-y things out in the North Sea. We never really figured out what was on them, except probably lots of birds.

The sky was really pretty, but my camera doesn't like doing cool sky pictures.

I had some striking memories of sand traps at golf courses as we tried to find the beach.

It was quite imposing.

Lilligan. She was moving pretty fast.

Pretty sky, pretty landscape.

Gorgeous sky, nice silhouette 

Beach! Finally... 

Lilligan had this thing where she would set her stick down, decide that it was buried, and start digging. The problem with this was that she kind of went backwards with the force of her digging.

It was a very clean beach. 

Imposing castle silhouette! And Adam's head in the front left corner there.

We all wrote our names in the sand and made fun of Adam's handwriting.

Jessi had fun with the dog.

Jessi was probably more fun to watch than the dog, actually.

That backwards digging thing again.

And the stick was in a tide puddle.

More castle silhouette!

We decided to storm the castle, but felt that this wasn't the best way to go.

Adam, Jessi, Felicity in front of Bamburgh village

Not storming on this side, either.

We saw a secret staircase and decided to climb it.

See that dark slit-like thing on the wall? That's where the stairs ended. There's a gate and a lot of pigeon poo in there.

I'm not sure why it has a fence around it, but it's a cool rock...

I think we tried to hop this part of the fence. We failed.

Behind the gates? Rubbish bins. Such a fancy enclosure...

In spite of our valiant attempts to scale fences and sneakily climb likely-looking walls, all the gates were locked and all the walls were either impossible for us to climb or were guarded by sneaky piles of grass clippings. After we finally gave up due to not wanting to get any more nature all over us, Jessi drove Adam's car for a while. We were doing pretty well until Adam yelled that she was turning into the wrong lane while she was turning (she wasn't), but she recovered pretty well. Felicity and I didn't get to drive because we don't know how to drive manuals. After dropping Lilligan back with Adam's sister, we went and had dinner at the pub in his hometown. The food was kind of weird, but we experienced some cultural things, like "pie" means "food with puff pastry set on top" and custard is something you pour over your food. Felicity also gave Adam some tips on how to pick up girls with his accent while he's in Maryland.

When we got home, this greeted us.

"Oh, and there's a huge spider there, if you haven't seen it."

I thought Adam was being mean to Jessi, who was up on top of the chairs on the other side of the room by the time he finished saying "spider", but it really was there.

Hence. Jessi hates spiders.

Don't worry, I killed it. Tomorrow we're going to a football match, so I'll have a new post for that.

Wednesday 28 September to Sunday 2 October

I'm sorry for neglecting the blog. To make up for it, I'll do a thing on Clanny House and my flatmates (a special edition, as it were), and maybe something on classes, courses, modules, and school structures over here.
On Wednesday (which Adam says "WED-n'sday", with the d in it, instead of "WENZday", like I say it), I had the seminar for my history module at 10 AM. I picked Diseases and Medicine for my presentation; I'm looking forward learning about the history of medicine. I thought about Witchcraft and Witch Hunts or Natural Philosophy (i.e., early science, like Newton), but those were at the end of the list and more likely to fill up, at least the witch one. As it stands, I'm working alone and have a few weeks to prepare. I'll get to see a few presentations before I have to do mine, so that's good. I'm looking forward to what I'll learn in the class, if not the actual process of learning it.
I'm also not looking forward to the annoying feminist in the lecture. She's the sort that gives the rest of us a bad name ("us" here meaning women in general, quite frankly). She got mad at someone for saying that, based on the burial records we were examining, men were more important than women in the Early Modern period (1500s to 1700s, roughly). It was a patriarchal society, honey. She's evidently a history major, which basically means that she either wants to teach or go into a traditionally male-dominated field, so I understand her feelings (as someone planning to go into a traditionally male-dominated field, even if my Whitworth classes are kind of full of females), but honestly! Gah.
I got my slippers, which I love:

I also went to the museum and winter gardens, although I didn't get pictures of the gardens.

Supported by lots and lots of museums and companies and stuff.

Impressive building. Also, the intersections here would inspire terrible things in Andrew's road map.

Dr. William Clanny, who invented safety lamps for miners. I suspect that he's the namesake of Clanny House, but I could be mistaken.

Thursday consisted entirely of Analytical Biochemistry. I inadvertently skipped two hours of lecture, thinking that the two slots on the schedule were two sections for the lecture, just like there were three lab sections. No. The lecture goes from 9-11 AM, then from 12-2 PM. Happily, my lecturer (also french. What is up with this?) was understanding of my study abroad issues, and emailed me the slides for the lecture. After the lecture, I had a short break before lab, which consisted entirely of review calculations.
I was surrounded by algebraic idiots. The lecturer wants us to put down formulas for every mathematic calculation we do (like M1V1=M2V2 for mass and volume problems, that sort of thing). While this is not my style, I'm willing to adapt in order to keep my grades up. No one could understand how to do this. Granted, I tend to put my formulas on at the end of the problem, but it's not impossible for me to use them at the beginning.
We spent ten minutes doing one problem on the board because the guy doing it couldn't figure out the formulas.
Then came the pièce de résistance. On one problem, which was admittedly complex, we finally worked it down to two unknowns and two equations (fairly ideal, for those of you without much math background). We were algebra-ing away, solving for unknowns and rewriting equations like professionals, when one kid asked where "the other A went".
Real quick: A+A is equivalent, in math terms, to 2A. It is also equivalent to A(1+1).
This kid could not understand this concept, which is one of the more basic . I don't know how he ever passed the british version of high school. I actually turned around and looked at him in disbelief at one point.
I got through class without killing anyone, so congratulate me.
Friday was much better. I don't have any classes friday, so Jessi and I went to the beach on what was probably going to be one of the last warm days of our little indian summer. Finally, I almost had to go buy summer clothes. I found some sea glass and cool shells, and we managed to avoid getting splashed until we were standing at the steps to leave the beach and a huge wave came up and splashed us. Go figure.
Josie got a goldfish, who has been enthusiastically adopted by the whole flat. She named him Bob, just Bob with no surname, but Flo decided to call him Bob Diddy. It stuck, and Bob is now Bob Diddyfish on facebook. We're all friends with him.
Saturday was to be my laundry day. I forgot about my towels, though, so Sunday will be my laundry day as well if I can get the laundry room code to work. We also had italian night, which ended up being entirely vegetarian (such nice flatmates!) and also delicious. Josie helped Jessi make cannelloni, which was good if a bit undercooked; Conor made risotto; and Adam made bruschetta. I supplied tiramisu ice cream and cleaned up before and after.
Sunday was a lazy day. I still have to do laundry, but I'm working on postcards (FYI, I haven't been to the places on them. I bought them while stuck in heathrow airport terminal 5 for half a day). It's the first properly rainy day since I've been here, and Josie's caught a cold that I blame on the weather shift from hot and a little humid to cold and rainy. It's a great day to curl up with tea and a book.
I worked out the laundry code! First, I had the wrong code. It's C2370X. Second, I was turning the knob the wrong way and not pulling on the door handle itself. Laundry room accomplished.
Oh, my plant is doing great. It has, like, four new blossoms and it takes so much water that it has to be healthy.

And while I was taking pictures, I noticed something odd about my curtains.

Gasp! Three colours on one curtain! I never knew that mine were black on the outside...

Same for the other curtain.

The Beach and New Neighbour Part 2 — Monday 26 September

Today, we (Jessi, Conor, Josie, James, and I) went to the beach. There are two in Sunderland, and we ended up at the north one. Unfortunately, we couldn't see Norway, but the North Sea was nice and ocean-y. The beach was great, with clean sand and not very many rocks. This might be partly because when the tide is in, or when "the sea is in" in local parlance, the water comes all the way up to the seawall.

We finally found the beach!

Sneaky water snuck up on me.

I was big on waves crashing, but not very successful in capturing them.

Proof.

The shoreline had impressive curves.

I was also fascinated by this little wall thing and the way the waves crashed into it.

Birds!

It looked cooler in real life. That wall is the seawall, and there's a crisp packet drifting along the little stream of water from further along the beach.

We don't follow rules. 

Obligatory cute picture of Josie and James walking on the beach. Jessi is on the left there.

Can you pick and choose?

Those things with white roofs, if you can't tell, are train cars. For Andrew.

Not one, but two lighthouses. For Mom.

The sea came in. The grey in the foreground is the seawall.

I think I walked down those stairs.

Shadow pictures!

More attempts to get sprays of water from crashing waves to follow.

It sounds so fancy, promenade.

The sea promptly started behaving like a huge body of water when it came in. No crashing waves, just big rolling ones.

Bird!

Danger, ha. I laugh in the face of danger.

Here's a couple more lighthouse pictures for Mom:

Sorry about the fuzzy. I thought I had a better one.

Not actually a real light house, but still cool.

We had lunch at a fish and chips place, and I had what was billed as a "cheese patty". It turned out to be a lump of cheese and potato that had been battered and deep fried. It was kind of weird, but the chips were really good.

 I got a picture with someone else's fish for the blog.

Another English tradition checked off my list!

After that, I wandered around campus trying to get my computer troubles sorted. I can't check my timetable because I'm not actually registered for any modules, as it turns out. This made me rather irate. The fact that IT was only available from 10 AM to 2 PM today didn't help my mood.
In the end, I skipped my first class in protest of not being able to pick out classes until two business days before they start, not that they'll really know on account of me not being registered. Also, it was at 18:00 and I was reading and didn't want to catch the bus. I need a pair of slippers, because my feet are really taking a beating.
After we all got back from our various errands, Jessi hit a steep downward slope on her W-curve. The flat's common area was really messy, which has been irking her for a few days, and then there was a note on the door telling us to take out the trash and recycling. She stomped around in a bad mood and cleaned the entire common area while muttering that she hates the cleaning lady, the trash can, the vacuum, the floor, the carpet, the sink, the counter, Clanny House, Sunderland, and England. I did try to help, but she was in the sort of mood that doesn't welcome too much help.
She bounced back pretty well once the place was clean and everyone commented on it.
Tonight, we decided to have a subdued welcome party for Tom, the new guy. He didn't get back from class until after 21:00, which was about two hours after we all gathered. I suspect that we share that class, but there could be other 18:00 monday classes.
When Tom finally showed up, we discovered that he is from County Tipperary in the Republic of Ireland (so, from the British Isles, but not British as such). He's in what I believe is an education programme, although he says that he's studying history and english. I think it's because he's doing secondary (essentially the same as middle school/high school in the states) education with the intent of teaching english and/or history; he's done a semester of student teaching 14-year-olds (I think he said first years, but I'm really not sure now that I've looked up the English school system on wikipedia). He plays hurling, which is referred to as the fastest game on grass. It's pretty brutal, like a cross between field hockey and rugby. I feel that this should prepare him pretty well for teaching adolescents.
It also appears that Jessi (my roommate) is quite taken with Tom. It's pretty funny, and also induced one of the first gossip-y moments that we had as a flat (sans Jessi and Tom). Thanks to the fairly even mix of genders and wide spectrum of personality types in the flat, there've been almost no snippy, catty little incidents.
We had a fun discussion about accents in general, which occasionally prompted arguments between Adam and James (northern and southern, respectively) in which they mimicked each other's accents.
Around 23:30, a general craving for pizza was discovered, and we hunted frantically through our collection of flyers and takeout menus for a pizza place open after 23:00. Once we found one, Josie called and had a hard time communicating with the pizza person. I'm sure it didn't help that her australian accent isn't very similar at all in any way to the pizza person's Geordie accent. I'm really not sure why Adam didn't call in the first place, because he can actually talk with a Geordie accent.