Have you ever read the book Everyone Poops by Taro Gomi? It's a funny little book about how everyone, animals and humans poop. The illustrations try to capture the different piles left by different animals. I never really understood the boy though. He's running away naked and poop is flinging all behind him.
As I don't have any children, talking about poop is not a common occurrence for me, but part of living in a different culture is dealing with bathroom issues. I'm not living in a 3rd world country where I have to dig a latrine, but relieving ones self is different here.
First, vernacular: Americans say "I'm going to the rest room" or 'bathroom' which could mean that you're relieving yourself, or freshening up, or snooping through someone's medicine cabinet. It gives the other members of the party something to think about other than you doing number one or number two. Here, most people say "I have to go to the toilette" which seems direct and graphic and gives the American mind no alternative choices to think about what is going on behind the closed door.
Second, flushing: All toilette's are designed to flush with a little pressure (for pee) or a lot of pressure (for poop). In most public places, the highest pressure doesn't seem to flush even all the pee. Don't poop in public restrooms.
Third, bowl design: Toilette design is not universal. I never spent much time looking inside an American toilette bowl, but I noticed that British toilette's have a tendency to retain stuff in a way that I never noticed in America. It comes down to the inside back wall is sloped more than an American commode. I'm not sure what purpose the design is for - maybe cutting down on splash - but it results in flushing with the high pressure, waiting for the tank to re-fill and flushing again.
So now you all know about pooping in the UK. I'm sure you're glad there are no pictures to accompany this post.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
3rd quarter update
We are at the end of September and entering the final stages of my Masters of Research programme. To make sure that I am keeping up with my New Year's Resolution I have completed the following so far this year:
MRes
Four modules/papers completed
MBA
Dissertation completed
Personal Creative Writing
Novel - three complete drafts. Now working on fourth.
Essay - two essays completed
Not too bad so far. Now for the rest of this year I have to collect data from a bunch of businesses, analyze the data, and write a modest size (25,000 wrds) dissertation and write a proposal for my PhD. Okay, a little more work to do. But getting there.
And that damn novel isn't going to be ready to send out by the end of the year. Hoping that the fourth draft will smooth away a lot of rough places. Maybe the 6th draft will be the one?
MRes
Four modules/papers completed
MBA
Dissertation completed
Personal Creative Writing
Novel - three complete drafts. Now working on fourth.
Essay - two essays completed
Not too bad so far. Now for the rest of this year I have to collect data from a bunch of businesses, analyze the data, and write a modest size (25,000 wrds) dissertation and write a proposal for my PhD. Okay, a little more work to do. But getting there.
And that damn novel isn't going to be ready to send out by the end of the year. Hoping that the fourth draft will smooth away a lot of rough places. Maybe the 6th draft will be the one?
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Building Blocks
Blocks are nice and solid. They are the foundation of buildings, learning, and measurement. In even the most unsquare of cities (Boston, I'm talking to you) they measure distance. In every city in America, so many blocks equal a mile. It's seven large blocks in Salt Lake City. Some sources say it's twenty (20??) in New York City. Regardless of how many blocks it takes to make a mile, American's know that they can say "Such-n-Such is three blocks away" and we all know what is meant.
Here in Cheltenham (I don't know if this applies to all of the UK) people do not use blocks as a measurement. I haven't actually figured out exactly what they use. Mostly it's something like "It's close to the end of the upper High Street." or "Go towards Montpellier". The town is small enough that once you've lived here long enough that seems to work. But try giving directions to out-of-towners.
We could use time. "It takes 10 minutes to get to point B" but I'm a fast walker so do I bump up the minutes for average walkers? And I don't think that many people have a very good internal sense of time. Are you talking as you walk? Are you browsing at store fronts along the way? Are you rewriting your thesis paper?
Many listen to music as they walk. Could we use songs as measurement? It takes four songs to get to the bookstore. Except I listen to mostly classical. It takes one good concerto for me to get from my house to the Park Campus.
I guess the only real solution is just to get a map.
Here in Cheltenham (I don't know if this applies to all of the UK) people do not use blocks as a measurement. I haven't actually figured out exactly what they use. Mostly it's something like "It's close to the end of the upper High Street." or "Go towards Montpellier". The town is small enough that once you've lived here long enough that seems to work. But try giving directions to out-of-towners.
We could use time. "It takes 10 minutes to get to point B" but I'm a fast walker so do I bump up the minutes for average walkers? And I don't think that many people have a very good internal sense of time. Are you talking as you walk? Are you browsing at store fronts along the way? Are you rewriting your thesis paper?
Many listen to music as they walk. Could we use songs as measurement? It takes four songs to get to the bookstore. Except I listen to mostly classical. It takes one good concerto for me to get from my house to the Park Campus.
I guess the only real solution is just to get a map.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Facebook Society is Weird
I worked at the tea room today. My co-workers and the owner seem to like me quite a lot and we all had a good day talking. Our Wednesday Weight Watcher women came in and I chatted with the one about her new puppy.
Walking home from the grocery store after work, the beep beep of a horn caught my attention. It was the Elders and a passenger and were waving to say "hello"!
Walking up the drive to our terrace complex, one of my neighbors was outside, having just got home from her daughter's wedding in Jamaica. My short-term lease is coming to a close and she was excited that I was still living here. We chatted for a while about the Jamaican adventures.
I checked my voice mail an hour ago (I never bring my cell phone anywhere with me.) and I had a message from a friend from church. Just calling to see if I wanted to get together during the day to hang out.
The day was ending with me feeling pretty happy that people like me. Then I noticed that I lost two Facebook 'friends'.
Now, I've defriended a time or too. Like the guy that friended me the morning after meeting him at a party and I wanted to see if he was someone that might be of interest. He wasn't and a month later I defriended him. And I've been defriended for somewhat justified reasons. I also have some people who refuse to be my 'friend' but there's a history and I get it. But I'm kind of surprised by the two who recently defriended me. The one, we are acquaintances of the large body of Boston network. While not knowing each other on a deep level, there also shouldn't be any animosity towards one another. I mean, I know I'm difficult, but I usually do know when someone doesn't care for me. And the other was a recent co-worker that again, I thought we were on friendly terms.
But the silly thing is, I have real life people who interacted with me today, and for the past eight months, that do like me. They are a part of my real breathing and kicking life. The other two people, as nice as they are, aren't really a part of any aspect of my life. Just my past, and recently virtual life. So should it really bother me all that much? Probably not. But it does.
People are weird. I am weir. Facebook is weird.
Walking home from the grocery store after work, the beep beep of a horn caught my attention. It was the Elders and a passenger and were waving to say "hello"!
Walking up the drive to our terrace complex, one of my neighbors was outside, having just got home from her daughter's wedding in Jamaica. My short-term lease is coming to a close and she was excited that I was still living here. We chatted for a while about the Jamaican adventures.
I checked my voice mail an hour ago (I never bring my cell phone anywhere with me.) and I had a message from a friend from church. Just calling to see if I wanted to get together during the day to hang out.
The day was ending with me feeling pretty happy that people like me. Then I noticed that I lost two Facebook 'friends'.
Now, I've defriended a time or too. Like the guy that friended me the morning after meeting him at a party and I wanted to see if he was someone that might be of interest. He wasn't and a month later I defriended him. And I've been defriended for somewhat justified reasons. I also have some people who refuse to be my 'friend' but there's a history and I get it. But I'm kind of surprised by the two who recently defriended me. The one, we are acquaintances of the large body of Boston network. While not knowing each other on a deep level, there also shouldn't be any animosity towards one another. I mean, I know I'm difficult, but I usually do know when someone doesn't care for me. And the other was a recent co-worker that again, I thought we were on friendly terms.
But the silly thing is, I have real life people who interacted with me today, and for the past eight months, that do like me. They are a part of my real breathing and kicking life. The other two people, as nice as they are, aren't really a part of any aspect of my life. Just my past, and recently virtual life. So should it really bother me all that much? Probably not. But it does.
People are weird. I am weir. Facebook is weird.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
My Country Tis of Thee
I've tried to avoid most media coverage on this 10th anniversary of 9/11 but here I find myself posting my own blog about it. I can't believe that is has already been ten years. Though it doesn't seem like it just happened yesterday, it does seem like it was just a year ago or so. Throughout the past century, I think most American's remember where they were and what they were doing when a national event occurred; The bombing of Pearl Harbor, the assassination of JFK, and for our generation, 9/11.
I had been in Washington D.C. that weekend and had flown home to Boston on the evening of the 10th. The next morning I drove to my office out in Marlborough, an hour and half outside of Boston. We were all working when someone came running into our office, shouting about a plane hitting the first tower. What an amazing and horrific accident we all thought and rushed into the conference room to turn on the television.
As the events quickly unfolded we were told to stay in Marlborough until cleared to go home. No one new if Boston was also going to be attacked and it was safer to stay where we were. By mid-day we were told to go home. Directly home. Emotions didn't hit until driving through the toll booths along the Mass Pike. The green arrows were on all ports and the collectors were waving people through, tears in most eyes. People needed to get through as quickly as possible. Safety and speed was more important than revenue.
That afternoon, as my roommate and I were glued to our television set, the first of several military aircraft went zooming close over head. The first one evoked fear as we knew that all planes were supposed to be grounded. The next several fly by's were no less unnerving as we realized they were out securing our city from any further attacks.
Several days later I went to a flag ceremony out in Weston. You did anything you could to be a part of a community. As the flag was raised and positioned at half-mast and we sang the National Anthem, a cyclist taking advantage of the warm Autumn day for a country ride, stopped along side the rode, dismounted, removed his helmet, and placed his hand over his heart and sang along with us. Ten years later, that is the image that is in my head of national pride.
A few weeks later I had to fly for a business trip. Security was now military men in full gear, carrying machine guns. Machine guns in airports were only things you saw in the international news, not in American airports. Passengers were quiet, courteous to one another, quick to hand over anything requested.
Ten years later, something things have reverted back to pre-9/11. For some, life will never be the same. Living in Boston and working for a financial services company, you know people who were on the planes or people who worked in the Twin Towers. You know people who should have been there but by a twist of fate weren't. Ten years later I love my country just as much as before.
This is one of my favorite anthem's to America. During the events and aftermath of the terrorist attacks we witnessed heroics and courage and bravery and succoring.
My native country thee
Land of the noble free
Thy name I love
I had been in Washington D.C. that weekend and had flown home to Boston on the evening of the 10th. The next morning I drove to my office out in Marlborough, an hour and half outside of Boston. We were all working when someone came running into our office, shouting about a plane hitting the first tower. What an amazing and horrific accident we all thought and rushed into the conference room to turn on the television.
As the events quickly unfolded we were told to stay in Marlborough until cleared to go home. No one new if Boston was also going to be attacked and it was safer to stay where we were. By mid-day we were told to go home. Directly home. Emotions didn't hit until driving through the toll booths along the Mass Pike. The green arrows were on all ports and the collectors were waving people through, tears in most eyes. People needed to get through as quickly as possible. Safety and speed was more important than revenue.
That afternoon, as my roommate and I were glued to our television set, the first of several military aircraft went zooming close over head. The first one evoked fear as we knew that all planes were supposed to be grounded. The next several fly by's were no less unnerving as we realized they were out securing our city from any further attacks.
Several days later I went to a flag ceremony out in Weston. You did anything you could to be a part of a community. As the flag was raised and positioned at half-mast and we sang the National Anthem, a cyclist taking advantage of the warm Autumn day for a country ride, stopped along side the rode, dismounted, removed his helmet, and placed his hand over his heart and sang along with us. Ten years later, that is the image that is in my head of national pride.
A few weeks later I had to fly for a business trip. Security was now military men in full gear, carrying machine guns. Machine guns in airports were only things you saw in the international news, not in American airports. Passengers were quiet, courteous to one another, quick to hand over anything requested.
Ten years later, something things have reverted back to pre-9/11. For some, life will never be the same. Living in Boston and working for a financial services company, you know people who were on the planes or people who worked in the Twin Towers. You know people who should have been there but by a twist of fate weren't. Ten years later I love my country just as much as before.
This is one of my favorite anthem's to America. During the events and aftermath of the terrorist attacks we witnessed heroics and courage and bravery and succoring.
My native country thee
Land of the noble free
Thy name I love
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Mind Mapping
My friend Kevin has been posting a series of great stuff based on the book Making Ideas Happen and I thought I would share the method to my madness on how I create Action Plans for all my brilliant ideas. (Brilliant might be stretching it a bit.)
It starts with Mind Mapping. This is something I picked up from a training class through work several years ago. This has suited me for just about every aspect of my life: Work ideas, school ideas, novel plots, etc. I call it a cross between a pin wheel and a spider web. In the center is the crux of the issue. Each fork out represents major ideas with their associated pros/cons/action plans or whatever the situation calls for.
I will need to be making some major life choices with a drop due date of August 2012. This mind map consist of three main choices I have while I finish up my PhD. They are: Full time instructor, "Real Job" + adjunct professor, or contract work + adjunct professor. I think if you click on the photo you can see the branches below each of those choices.
(Most often, I do all of this, and I make spreadsheets to analytically weigh pros & cons listed under each pinwheel, but in the end, the final decision is based on gut instinct. Sorry, no lessons on how to do that. )
Once I choose a decision I make a project calendar for the full time frame. In this case, I chose being a full time instructor. (This is not a declaration of my future. I'm merely using this example for demonstration purposes.) There is the primary goal one - obtaining PhD, primary goal two - becoming full time instructor, and secondary goals. (click on the image for a larger image.)
Now that I have this master plan laid out, I can make a weekly/monthly calendar. The sample below was extracted from the beginning of this year while I was finishing my MBA and starting the Masters of Research. And yes, I did schedule in my T.V. time. I love T.V.
This calendar then gets printed out and posted on my fridge. However, reading through Kevin's blog I realize that I probably should commit to more actionable items. Might speed the process of accomplishment along a bit more.
It starts with Mind Mapping. This is something I picked up from a training class through work several years ago. This has suited me for just about every aspect of my life: Work ideas, school ideas, novel plots, etc. I call it a cross between a pin wheel and a spider web. In the center is the crux of the issue. Each fork out represents major ideas with their associated pros/cons/action plans or whatever the situation calls for.
I will need to be making some major life choices with a drop due date of August 2012. This mind map consist of three main choices I have while I finish up my PhD. They are: Full time instructor, "Real Job" + adjunct professor, or contract work + adjunct professor. I think if you click on the photo you can see the branches below each of those choices.
(Most often, I do all of this, and I make spreadsheets to analytically weigh pros & cons listed under each pinwheel, but in the end, the final decision is based on gut instinct. Sorry, no lessons on how to do that. )
Once I choose a decision I make a project calendar for the full time frame. In this case, I chose being a full time instructor. (This is not a declaration of my future. I'm merely using this example for demonstration purposes.) There is the primary goal one - obtaining PhD, primary goal two - becoming full time instructor, and secondary goals. (click on the image for a larger image.)
Now that I have this master plan laid out, I can make a weekly/monthly calendar. The sample below was extracted from the beginning of this year while I was finishing my MBA and starting the Masters of Research. And yes, I did schedule in my T.V. time. I love T.V.
This calendar then gets printed out and posted on my fridge. However, reading through Kevin's blog I realize that I probably should commit to more actionable items. Might speed the process of accomplishment along a bit more.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Service
There are a lot of different careers that I would love to have: professional classical musician, writer, veterinarian, Las Vegas show girl (I know, but it's true. It's the feathery costumes), landscape designer, tennis player (I have a better chance at being a show girl), movie director, spy, soccer mom.
I've also considered more service oriented jobs: FEMA, red cross, etc. If I were a man, or Episcopalian, I would also consider being a chaplain in the Armed services (In order to be a chaplain you have to be able to perform the ordinances of your own religion.) I did spend a short time helping out in a Christian shelter in Boston where I helped read the Holy Bible and sat in prayer and mediation with those who asked for the help. And I've been involved in orchestrating quite a few other service projects through the years. (Mt. Vernon nursing home anyone? Or the Sunday clean-ups at the duck pond in Malden?) Generally speaking, I have many short comings, but I have a great love for God and all that he has created and enjoy being a serviceable person.
Unless of course that is in an official capacity. I'm not sure that I have any readers who are not LDS or don't know anything about the religion, but I'll briefly explain: Ours is a lay church which means it is of the people, for the people, by the people. Oh wait, that might be the Gettysburg address...but it's kind of the same thing. We all take part in doing our part. Except me.
I can't hold it together when I'm given an official calling (responsibility). A psychoanalysis of all the many reasons why would be longer than a blog post should ever be, so we'll just leave it there. I can sign up to clean up the building, I can volunteer to watch someone's children in an emergency, I can give a talk, I can sub a class, I can visit the sick, the elderly, the poor, but the minute I am given any of these tasks to do on a regular basis I am filled with dread, resentment, panic, fear, anger. Pretty much all the feelings that the are opposite to being filled with the love of Christ.
There have been many leaders who think I'm an evil person because I don't *want* a calling, that I am not *willing* to serve. A diabetic doesn't fast, a cripple isn't assigned to be the janitor. There are many people that have mortal things that prevent them from doing all that they want to do. An official calling is one of those things for me.
But I think me and God are good. He created me and He gets me. I don't know that I care too much if anyone else does. Even if I do get the stink eye from church leaders from time to time.
I've also considered more service oriented jobs: FEMA, red cross, etc. If I were a man, or Episcopalian, I would also consider being a chaplain in the Armed services (In order to be a chaplain you have to be able to perform the ordinances of your own religion.) I did spend a short time helping out in a Christian shelter in Boston where I helped read the Holy Bible and sat in prayer and mediation with those who asked for the help. And I've been involved in orchestrating quite a few other service projects through the years. (Mt. Vernon nursing home anyone? Or the Sunday clean-ups at the duck pond in Malden?) Generally speaking, I have many short comings, but I have a great love for God and all that he has created and enjoy being a serviceable person.
Unless of course that is in an official capacity. I'm not sure that I have any readers who are not LDS or don't know anything about the religion, but I'll briefly explain: Ours is a lay church which means it is of the people, for the people, by the people. Oh wait, that might be the Gettysburg address...but it's kind of the same thing. We all take part in doing our part. Except me.
I can't hold it together when I'm given an official calling (responsibility). A psychoanalysis of all the many reasons why would be longer than a blog post should ever be, so we'll just leave it there. I can sign up to clean up the building, I can volunteer to watch someone's children in an emergency, I can give a talk, I can sub a class, I can visit the sick, the elderly, the poor, but the minute I am given any of these tasks to do on a regular basis I am filled with dread, resentment, panic, fear, anger. Pretty much all the feelings that the are opposite to being filled with the love of Christ.
There have been many leaders who think I'm an evil person because I don't *want* a calling, that I am not *willing* to serve. A diabetic doesn't fast, a cripple isn't assigned to be the janitor. There are many people that have mortal things that prevent them from doing all that they want to do. An official calling is one of those things for me.
But I think me and God are good. He created me and He gets me. I don't know that I care too much if anyone else does. Even if I do get the stink eye from church leaders from time to time.
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