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Apparently, Senator John McCain wants an inquiry as to why weapons of mass destruction have not been found in Iraq. George W. Bush agrees he, too, wants to know the facts.
He need not waste the American people’s tax money. Let me tell him.
“Hey Dubya, you know why you can’t find the WMDs? It’s because they weren’t there in the first place.”
I was planning a more substantial, intellectual entry today – in light of the Hutton Report, among other things, but I think my brain has had enough pursuits to cater to this week. So you’re stuck with another ‘It’s My Life’ entry.
It’s Friday. It’s the weekend.
What does the weekend mean to me?
a) Smallville
b) DVDs
c) Cartoons
And that is all. And it means everything.
Am quite excited about my data, but am reserving Monday onwards to be properly looking at them. I was talking to a friend yesterday about doing PhDs, and we sort of both agreed than one of the toughest things was sustaining motivation. Getting motivation is hard enough, but sustaining it is another challenge in itself.
So however excited I am about the data, I am trying to work on it in manageable amounts – most probably just between 9-5 on weekdays, regardless of how much I want to polish it off all in one go. Because as long as I have some eagerness to work on it at 5pm on a certain day, InsyaAllah I will have the same drive at 9 the next morning. Don’t want to overdo it and then get sick of the data in 3 days. I have plenty of time for that later.
So the rest of today is dedicated to reading and replying to overdue emails, sorting out Malaysian Soc matters, updating my photoblog and other random things which I should have done ages ago, but never got round to it. After another cup of coffee, of course. I’m still mildly out of it.
Photoblog updated, btw. And the snow in London pictures can now be viewed.
I never knew so much could happen in four days. Well, okay, so much of the action actually happened on day four, but not everything went according to plan anyway. As I blogged earlier, I was going down to Essex to get the bulk of the data that will constitute my PhD thesis.
Travelling to East Anglia from the North West constitutes a change over in London, so I thought I’d stop over on my way back. Travelled down on the Sunday, knowing full well of the associated delays and expecting a bus service from Liverpool Street Station in London into Essex. What I did not expect was the queue for the bus service to span the length of the station itself. No two thoughts about it, I boarded a train service instead, which required me to change to a bus at Shenfield, and then get back on a train at Chelmsford before travelling on to my intended destination.
Arrived okay, a tad tired but hotel room was nice, even if the hotel was a bit out of the way. There was 24 hour cable tv, with one channel showcasing the Aussie Open. Sorted.
Monday and half of Tuesday was spent downloading and sorting out the data, and instead of spending Tuesday night in Essex, I rang Lin up and asked if I could bunk over for one night. I am quite embarassed to admit that over the past 2 weeks or so, my sorry excuse for a body has started to become quite familiar with a certain spot on her floor. But hey, she said yes, and London at any time of day had more entertainment to offer than that little town in Essex, so I was on my way.
Lin still had a lecture on Tuesday afternoon, so I spent it exploring more gratitious pursuits – trawling Oxford Street. Took a bus to Tottenham Court Road, and then walking all the way down the street before taking a right at Marble Arch and up onto Edgware Road , where I enjoyed a cup of Cafe Mocha (very posh name for Neslo!) at the nearby Starbucks while waiting for my ‘host’ to come back from uni.
Decided to catch a movie that night – the Runaway Jury, starring John Cusack (whom I wanted to watch) and Dustin Hoffman (whom Lin wanted to watch). Tini came with us – ironic how small the world is, since Tini is also from Kajang, a YTN scholar, and a friend of Fisz’s. (It need not be said Tini and Lin and Lini as well, did their A-Levels at KMYS).
Wednesday – spent most of the morning just being useless – something I am pretty good at. Went out after Zuhr to HMV’s in Oxford Street to buy a certain DVD box set (don’t ask!) and decided to catch the 1830 train back to Lancaster. After finishing Maghrib prayers, looked outside the window and lo and behold – Edgware Road was encased in snow. It had snowed, minimally, the night before but this time the snow was for real – swirling down and quickly carpeting everything in white. Earlier that morning a few juniors from Lancaster rang me to say it was snowing in Lancaster, and I was initially envious, but looking at the whiteness that surrounded me, I knew the snow in London beat the snow in Lancaster any day.. hehe.
Instantly pushed back my departure time to the 1925 train – and went out to mess about and take the obligatory snowy pictures. At about six, I finally went upstairs and took my bags, and caught the bus to Euston. This was where the best bit began. Bus, of course, was jam-packed, rush hour and all. Would have taken the tube, but the lines weren’t running well due to the weather (it was snowing quite heavily) and I’d rather be stuck in traffic above the ground than under, as visions of having poisoned gas released in the Underground played in front of my eyes. Had to crawl over everyone to get out of the bus at Euston, but I was in good time for the train. Very good time, in fact.
Because the train, which was supposed to leave at 1925, didn’t show up until 1945, and we were only allowed to board at 2010. Only, of course, to be informed that we couldn’t be on our way because an engine to pull the train wasn’t available. 2045 – engine was found, we were told, but the cables to connect the engine to the train were frozen, so another delay, presumably because they went to look for hairdryers? The train finally moved out of Euston at 2105, with an estimated time of arrival at Lancaster of 0015.
Truth be told, I would have stayed over another night in London instead of go through all this, but I had a 9am tutorial Thursday morning, and as the tutor, one cannot afford to skive off. Not to mention that I am tutoring as part of my services to the department for sponsoring my doctorate, so it felt rather dishonourable not to try and be home in time.
Anyway, the adventure didn’t stop there. Outside of Rugby, we came to a complete halt for about 45 minutes, maybe an hour, and again before Tamworth, for an hour or so. Coupled with slow speed limits, at the ETA of 0015, we were still nowhere near Tamworth! I resigned to the fact that I may well have to walk off the train the next morning and straight into tutorials at university.
But, after Stafford, things sped up considerably, and at about 0238 hours, I arrived at Lancaster Station. Rang a cab, arrived home at 0256 hours, took off my jacket and tudung, and *thud* fell into bed. Woke up with a belt imprint on my belly. Very, very out of it, but I think after about 3 cups of coffee, I managed to pull off my 9am tutorials. Another 5 cups and my 11am seemed more bearable; would have actually gone home if it were not for a Malaysian Soc meeting at 6.30pm. *sigh*
Which brings me to now. Knackered, but hey, still alive. And kicking. And not very angry at all, considering. I had a fun time in London with the snow – second year in a row; and since it might be a while before I make it down south again, it was well worth my while, delayed train and all. I suppose the compensation I have claimed from Virgin has softened the blow.. heh heh heh.
Pictures will be added on later, kids.