The season of goodwill

The season of goodwill has come sputtering to a halt with a rather unpleasant meeting in which the lecturers shared their litany of complaints about the Academic Director, otherwise known as NBTEISABSOPBOBWSL. Fortunately for me, I am one of the lecturers, but nonetheless found it all rather sad. It turns out that our lack of trust was well-placed. The Big Cheese, brought in to explain why he is fiddling while Rome burns, spat and hissed like a cornered tomcat, Nice Irish Teacher was roused to such a passion that his utterances were paralysed by curses, and Academic Director squirmed in his seat, wrang his hands and talked about his feelings. Immediately after the meeting, we all had to don our antlers and attend a student Christmas party. Ho ho ho.


Timorous Beast has also enjoyed a number of end of year parties. During the last one, he was invited to make a speech. The speech, or perhaps the sight of Beast sweating heavily under the spotlight and the pressure to perform, was so impressive that one male student (who is married with two children) cried out "I'm bisexual!!" in the middle of it.


And with that, I am off to the UK tomorrow, to enjoy exuberant teenage boys jumping on my head and neurotic women force-feeding me the entire contents of their fridge. My sister has taken the liberty of arranging a special treat - a girls night out, consisting of a meal and "disco" down The Smiddy for me, her and the women from her office. Oh God.

What are you reading?

I've been tagged by Diddums. And its a good thing too, because as you will see from what is below, I have been precoccupied by work and haven't had the wit to think of any interesting posts for you. This was my task:

1. Take the nearest book and go to page 123.
2. Go to the fifth sentence of the page.
3. Copy down the next three sentences and tag three people.

"This kind of authorial assertivness is, of course, addressed as much to colleagues as to learners, contributing a personal stamp on what peers might see as a recounting of disciplinary orthodoxy. Boosters, then, help writers to build a personal ethos through an impression of certainty, assssurance and conviction in the views expressed, an image strengthened with the use of personal pronouns. An overt acceptance of personal responsibilty for a judgement was quite rare in the hard science texts, but occurred often in the chapters from philosophy and applied linguistics."

Ken Hyland in Disciplinary Discourses.

Sorry about that - haven't read a novel in months. I am tagging Chaucer's Bitch because she might have something juicy about pronouns on her desk: Liisa because Diddums' Tove Jansson answer reminded me of her; and Mancboomerang because he should prove once and for all that he doesn't only read about financial instruments (not because he is the only other person that reads this blog).

Big Bad Brad

I have a post in my head, but no time to put it on this blog. In lieu of a proper post then, I give you Big Bad Brad, my mate (er...ex actually), who has just turned 48. When I asked his permission to post this picture, he agreed on the condition that it generate thousands of admiring comments from hot blogging babes around the globe. Don't let me down...

I left my heart in Kobe

I returned home on the shinkansen, zipping along the ugly industrial sprawl that is the Pacific coast of Japan at 200 miles an hour with a sore buttock and a crusty ear. The former was probably the result of a vigorous afternoon's bowling, while the latter was down to Honey, who would lick anything she could get her tongue near to within an inch of its life. If you are thinking of visiting Kobe on a rainy Saturday, I can tell you now that there is no better way to pass the time than pinned to the back seat of a car by a 40 kilo golden retriever who is determined to enjoy a lickfest.

Better late than never

I have thoroughly enjoyed reading about what various women bloggers, starting with Patroclus, have learned from the men in their lives, so for want of a better idea, am doing the same, albeit somewhat tardily:

Acid, Adrian Belew, attention seeking, Blackadder, Bond films A-Z, camping, crosswords, eggs Benedict, how to roll a joint, Jaco Pastorious, Macs (the computers, not the overcoats), Magazine (the band, not the publication), Manhattan, parlour games, premature ejaculation (what it is, not how to do it), politics of the non-gender type, Primo Levi, Scotland’s west coast, stuff about World War II, that the drugs don’t work, but they help a bit, the pubs of the west end of Glasgow, tolerance (it’s a work in progress), walks in the woods, what to do when your boyfriend pours a pint of lager over your head in a nightclub.

And with that, I am off to Kobe for a Christmas party.

Smartarse

According to that venerable examination institution Tickle.com, I have an IQ of 131, putting me in the top 5% of test takers. I was basking in a smug sense of satisfaction about this until Timorous Beast, a man who on Sunday confessed to thinking his lunch was compote of chicken rather than confit of chicken, got 133. Typical.

Shoe fetish

While we were hanging around waiting for Casino Royale to start, Timorous Beast and I went shoe shopping. Or to tell the truth, Beast went shoe shopping, while I goggled in horror at some of the footwear on sale. Now I know where those hideous-looking Japanese blokes get their style.

The film, incidentally, was great. Daniel Craig’s thighs get my vote any day.