The End-Term 1

Monday:

I woke before the sun.
I enjoyed a slow shower, slow cup of freshly pressed coffee, and a leisurely view of the sunrise out my window.
Then I received a call letting me know that I was horribly late for my new research assistant job on campus.

Shit. I forgot about that.

I highly recommend, just once in your life, attempting to get dressed in nearly freezing weather, at full sprint, down a public street. No worries kids, I made sure my wellies were on before I flew out the front door. Priorities darlings.

In an unfathomable display of generosity, the bus driver chose to acknowledge my screams and stop the bus just as he was pulling out into traffic. What I failed to gather when dashing out the door, however, was my bus pass. So I did the American thing and threw too much money at him and took a seat. The bus driver was left confused and anxious, befuddled and mumbling to himself, but he did my bidding all the same. Catching the bus at least allowed me the chance to finish snapping on my bra and properly wrap up my scarf.

I arrived with seconds to spare. As soon as my things were carelessly flung to the corner of the testing lab, 20 undergraduate participants began lining up, ready to perform the last task in the PhD student's experiment. As she attempted to explain my duties, I realised I wasn't the only one having trouble getting my shit together that morning. Poor thing. The participants were to gamble for real money and I was the designated bank. The first participant won, and I asked the PhD what to give him. She handed me a paper bag impregnated with smaller bags of coins coupled with a dismissive "Here", then turned to tend to the next participant in line. The first participant won £2. I spied several small plastic bags of silver coins, and delivered one unto the student. What I actually managed to do, as I was soon to find out, was give the first participant £10 in 50 pence coins. The bags were not, as I thought, pre-divided into the payout options, but were in standard UK-bank coin bags, segregated by denomination. Well, poop.

So I Americaned out again. I knew I had roughly 10 minutes before the second round of participants were ready and a bank lay less than 10 minutes away. I turned to this ever so young and now frazzled PhD student and convinced her to calm the fuck down.... I got this.

I ran to the bank. Procured a £10 bag of 50 pence coins from my account. The moment I left the bank, however, I knew I wasn't going to make it in time. Even at a full sprint (assuming I had that in me sans breakfast) I seriously doubted my physical abilities at that point.

But what was this? A refuse truck headed in the same direction? Right up the main road? I jumped onto the passenger side foot lift and asked if they were headed north. They confirmed and I yelled through the partially opened window that I was "in serious need of transportation help", "frightfully late", and would jump off at corner X & Y.... IF ONLY I COULD JUST SNAG A RIDE FOR THE GIBBET HILL STRETCH!?

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I ended up riding the outside of a refuse truck to save someone's research study. Was it all worth it? Do you really need to ask :)

Tuesday:

What to say about Tuesday...
Tuesday is the second day in the traditional work week. Tuesday is the sixty-fifth workday in a postgraduate week. Tuesday carries a momentum with magical, other worldly powers that keeps the mover moving until Friday. Well, Friday afternoon, at least.

This evening I took a deliberate leap and met with a professor who's single lecture pushed me to question assumptions I wasn't even aware needed questioning. He graciously agreed to a late-in-the-day meeting. Afterwork meetings are a touchy business. As the asker, one must be aware that the receiver can be mentally exhausted by this time. He (or she) is wearing a full workday by this point. A Tuesday workday, at that. He, in this case, could have easily dismissed my inquiries, belittled my pensive, probing questions, and left me feeling quite impotent, due to his own fatigue driven honesty.

Or...

He could have exhibited a rare openness that can also stem from the same fatigue driven honesty. I was lucky enough to be the recipient of the latter.

I predicated this meeting upon my desires for a PhD. The meeting, however, turned into a delightful exchange of philosophical ideas. We discussed Thoreau, Emerson, Mill, Russell, Wittgenstein, rationality, object-based vs. subject-based science, & more. Even the notion of the sustainability of a rock became a topic of severe interest. He's one of the few people I've met who allowed me quiet reflection in the middle of our discussion. This meeting gave me food for thought. Precisely what I needed.

Working title: The Wrong Side Of An Economics Lecture

The clock is not moving.

.

.

.

.

.

I'm sitting here,

Victim to destructive thoughts of sanity,

And the clock refuses to tick.

.

.

.

Neither will it tock.

.

.

What does this clock have against me?

Have I wasted too much of it's gift?

Have I spent too frivolously?

.

.

.

The silence.
A resounding,

Yes.

.

.

.

This is my punishment.

This is the consequent for my frivolities.

          Time refuses to allow me further forward progression.

Time has shut me out.
.

.

.

.

.

Tick, you bastard.

tick.

Wednesday:

Day of reflection.

Life is everything imaginable. Strap in and I hope you enjoy the ride.

Here are some pictures:

So far, I'm the only postgruadate this term from the states.

I don't know who this goose is, but he's got his own shack on an island in the middle of the city. Cool.

This goose danced for me. It only seemed polite to take his picture and applaud his two-step.

Abandoned downtown bus station at 15 to 2(am).

Thursday:

There's nothing quite like reviewing an entire course's information in 2 frightfully short hours.

Friday:

Last day of Term 1.

We were kicked out of the private, postgrad work space 3 hours before the Assessment #3 deadline, for our "safety". A peaceful student protest was scheduled to be held in front of the building in 2 hours. When I say kicked out, I mean they had to send in the cops to remove me from my work space. I was the last hold out. It started with the director of the postgrad space asking us all to leave. After several visits, it ended with him imploring me - the last holdout - to leave. I remember at some point yelling out, "I protest the protest!" It officially ended when I realised the cops standing in front of me were just a couple short breaths away from bodily removing me from my work space "for my safety". My only thoughts were for the safety of my laptop and the oh, so precious non-backed-up work on it. So I left of my own accord, flanked by cops to be sure, but walking on my own two feet. I won't go so easily next time, however. Next time, I will remember I have Dropbox 2.0.22, and insurance.

By late lunch I was busy having drinks with fellow postgrads at one of the campus pubs. This was closely followed by a liquid PhD meeting at the next campus pub. The day came to a close with one last, yet spectacularly terrible, cider closer with a friend at a third campus pub. I slept until Sunday.

SEE YOU IN THE NEW YEAR :D

Ninth Week-Term 1

Monday:

Today I attended my first official Rotary luncheon (District 1060). Terry Bond, my original contact whilst still overseas, was my acting host for the day. Might I say, a lovely group of people, indeed. We dined on soup, bread, sauce-covered delicacies, and jovial conversations. I had the unique privilege of being the only female at the table. The men, all seemingly long-time friends, threw jibes at one another and gave each a 'good ribbing'. I was well entertained.

The speaker was Paul Carvell, Chair of North Warwickshire Chamber of Commerce. He spoke of infrastructure, job prospects, the uniqueness of N. Warwickshire commerce, and the social aspect of their growth (or lack thereof, depending on your perspective). Very intriguing, I must say.

Mr. Carvell said something particularly interesting toward the end which resonated for days... still is, as a matter of fact. He speculated that if The Tube was a city planning proposal for London today, it would probably fail. A feature of London that is so ingrained in the minds of people, a truly wondrous transportation system, that it is near impossible to imagine the metropolis without. Yet, he speculated that, given the mentality of the people today, counter arguments of a fairly rational nature would kill the project in its infancy. "We already have good roads, plenty of cars, taxis, even a bus system. Why do we need to sink more money into a massive project that will tear up neighbourhoods and put people out?" Food for thought...

There were also plenty of attorneys at the table. This set my mind wondering and I became temporarily lost for pondering the traditional attorney tag, "You don't have to answer that." Why is it so important for an attorney to say such a thing? Perhaps it is because we standard, run of the mill humans have a compulsion to answer direct questioning. If so, why do we have such a compulsion? Is this, yet again, some throwback from our childhood? As children, we're [practically] punished if we don't answer a direct question from an adult. I can certainly pull up a number of instances from my own experience. We are taught it is the polite thing to do, after all. And let's not forget, politeness is the cornerstone of a healthy society... blah, blah, blah.

Tuesday:

I was treated to a movie today with two other lovely postgrads from my course. We saw Captain Phillips. Exposé on the movie. On my own, I had no desire to see this movie. I vividly remember the news coverage of this event. I remember the animalistic excitement of Americans replaying the Navy Seal actions against the Somalian pirates. I did not want to suffer another story of murder-turned-American pride. However, my curiosity was peaked after hearing the excited reviews from others. So I attended.

Tom Hanks was everything Tom Hanks is. We wished nothing, but the best for his character, because we did not see Captain Phillips, we saw Tom Hanks.... and we Americans adore Tom Hanks. Yes, I too, like to watch Tom Hanks on screen. So the hero factor was a certain.

But what about the bad guys? We hate Somalian pirates, right? I mean, we revelled in their deaths, after all, when the news came through the wires. 

Oh contraire, mon frère. The four unknowns cast as the pirates were magnificent on the big screen. The directing was superb on their parts. The close-ups and disquieted, piercing glares were all the more shocking on screen, and we loved them. We fell in love with our nemesis and found ourselves lamenting their deaths. We knew it was coming, but we hoped all the same. Their deaths created a shock that washed over the theatre. As can happen with a well told story, we saw the human in the monster, just before the final stroke.

Wednesday:

What is this? It is beautiful, but what is it?
Musicians' compulsion to play together. To bond over a shared language, but it's more than familiarity. It's an excitement. It's finding someone who also speaks your language, but has improved upon it. The Other wants to express those improvements, put it all out on the table. Then you come with your improvements. Spread them out for listening pleasure or pain. A mystery until experienced. The product of a musical cocktail, equal parts compulsion and desire, stirred with pride, and a twist of fear.

"Your language is different from mine."
                                          "It's called harmony."

I woke up today from a fully orchestrated dream. I composed another song while dreaming. Haven't done that in..... I don't know how many years.

Then I promptly fell asleep in another morning lecture. Such is life.

Thursday:

Footnotes from Postgraduate Land:

• "There's something positive to be said about low investment (education), small return (job)."
• "The guy in front of us has very impressive ear hair."
• "It's always about assumptions."
• "What we now have is a formula for murder."
• "Look at your suffering. Begin there."
• "discovery -> knowledge -> power -> control"
• "Psychology is mostly irrelevant. It's an academic parlour game."
• "If mechanism is rubbish, what about cyborg science?"
• "You ever commit a move so familiar you must take pause to revel in the sweet state of familiarity? You should."
• "I find long-slumbering players privately waking & quietly, insidiously sneaking out. I hope Crazy stays slumbering."

Friday & Saturday:

Decided to give everyone a treat and cook a (semi)traditional Thanksgiving dinner. It was well worth it.

Eighth Week-Term 1

Monday:

I keep hearing a clock *tick *tick *tick away. A clock that apparently does not exist. I've looked all over this room, but to no avail. Yet I can feel it. Somewhere, I'm certain, there is a collection of machine-crafted gears, interlocking in a perfect, symbiotic relationship, forcing the smallest of delicate springs to *tick *tick *tick in recursive recoiling. This mysterious spring, this bane of my existence, must be. It must! I can feel it. I can feel a current ripple the air and excite the hair cells of my cochlea as surely as I feel my own increasingly rapid heart beat. But when I search for the source, I am left discontent. I look around at the others in the lounge, but to what end? Even if they were privy to this unceasing pulse, what reaction could I hope for to slake my curiosity?

"Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! --no, no! They heard! --they suspected! --they knew! --they were making a mockery of my horror!-"

Tuesday:

I and my ilk have passed a threshold. It is no longer within our collective capacity to measure time by hours, minutes, seconds. We cease to exist in a linear progression marked off so succinctly by Greenwich. We have crossed the threshold of known time itself and entered into the Ticktockman's fear-based realm of "Negotiable Delay". We poor, hunched postgrads huddle together, motivated by other-worldly senses and supernatural desires, to negotiate the precise moment when Assessment #3 is officially and unequivocally too late.

Wednesday:

London received snowfall today. Nothing stuck, but it snowed all the same. I was not aware of this. I was aware of the hail falling on me. Hail that, unlike London snow, stuck and stuck and stuck. The one time I found myself wondering along unknown footpaths - in the dark no less - with no relief in sight, it also hailed for the first time this season. In my own way, though, I was relieved. The concept of hail this Texan possesses involves bruising, broken windows, and some element of head trauma. This English "hail" was more along the lines of the slush that comes out of the hand-cranked Snoopy snow cone machines of the 1980s.

Was I upset at this unexpected experience? Not in the least :)
Por qué, you ask? For the simple reason that I was on my way to an equally unexpected dinner party in one of the student housing blocks. That, and also that I have never been packed in ice before. I was packed in ice once I reached the student housing entrance. Now I know what a lobster in the fish market feels like.

Dinner was spectacular. As happens when fabulous people congregate, a simple, generous gesture turned into a full-throttle international fare: quesadillas, guacamole, salsa, refried beans, mexican candy, english sodas, grilled salmon, pizza, thai salad, crisps, peppered steak, cilantro (coriander), honeydew w/ prosciutto, ending in compote topped cheese cake and chia tea straight from India. Espresso was also on the menu, but we all eventually ran out of steam (and tummy space). Mexico, US, Sweden, Thailand, China, Malaysia, and Taiwan were represented at the table.

Thursday:

Today brought the promise of a moment, a single, near instantaneous moment that held the potential to produce anything from a life-altering failure to an unparalleled success. George Loewenstein (Carnegie Mellon University) was the guest speaker at the DR@W Forum. For those readers who don't know, Georgie and I have a past. A twisted, dark, yet sadly brief past.

A couple years ago I applied to his program to earn my PhD while working along side one of the most prolific (if not brilliant) minds of our time in the field of decision making science. Wait, it gets even nerdier. I discovered Loewenstein's work after immersing myself for months in decision science research. My immersion was not for a class. No one expected anything from me. I just simply and quite severely became enthralled with a section of psychology that crossed over into economic & business theory. I loved the effort of a acknowledging the human factor in economic behaviours. I tasted the fruit and it was sweet.

A few days before Loewenstein's talk to our group, I joked that I was going to jump up at the beginning of the Q&A and ask, "Why wasn't I good enough for you 2 years ago!?" I said this as an obvious joke. However, when this afternoon rolled around, nearly everyone I mentioned my joke to showed up to Loewenstein's talk. They had front-row seats to the show. Oh dear....

Loewenstein gave a longer-than-expected talk to a larger-than-expected group. When all was said and done, the students urged and prompted me toward Loewenstein so I could have a heart-to-heart, as it were, with him. At the last second I decided, "What the fuck, let's do this."

I shared my excitement with his work, my previous attempts to join his program, and my present status in Warwick's department. He was naturally taken aback (very interesting), but then committed the same sin as all the rest. He tried to help me understand my rejection from his university's department. Loewenstein suggested that 2nd round applicants have 4.0 GPAs, at least one 800 score on their GRE, stellar letters of recommendation, and it doesn't hurt to have something published or, at the least, in the making. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had all the boxes ticked. So here, for your reading pleasure, are Loewenstein's pearls of wisdom I was able to glean from our conversation:

1) As of today, the University of Warwick has the best all encompassing behavioural program in the world. Which means, I GOT INTO THE BEST BEHAVIOURAL PROGRAM IN THE WORLD (right now). OK!

2) Professors now, including Loewenstein himself, would not have qualified as graduates for the programs they are now employed in. My interpretation: I'm a better qualified graduate student now than Loewenstein was at my stage 20-odd years ago. OK!

3) Loewenstein can be relied upon to tell a candidate what the probabilities are for acceptance. If you don't cut the mustard, he suggests "casting a broader net."

Before parting, I decided to abstain from asking for a picture with him. Call me crazy, but you don't [practically] insult someone then ask for a photo op.

Friday:

I wonder if these streets will haunt my dreams the way places of my childhood do? So many strange alleyways.

Seventh Week-Term 1

Weekend:

Spent a beautiful weekend wondering around, being shuffled around, and touring my new home-base. I attended another movie night with a friend, as well. The movie is local Irish indie film, Once. You can find it on Netflix (at least for now). The story is bitter sweet and nothing I expected. The music is, wow. Here is my favourite song from the movie (youtube). Honestly, watching movies snuggled into a double layer of socks & sweats (aka: tracksuit) has got to be one of the BEST ways to spend a cold, grey afternoon.

Monday:

I walked out of my first lecture today. Nothing as obnoxious as slamming books and storming out, coat flying through the air. I simply didn't agree with the content of the Psychology lecture. At our mid-lecture break I chose to leave and do other things with my time. I came to find out later that I wasn't the only one who took issue with the content.

After the lecture, several postgrads met up for our second yoga session of the term. What a lovely time! Everyone is so receptive to the practice. To drive home my promise that the practice is 'office friendly', I wore a floor-length skirt throughout the entire session. My back felt so alive and relaxed afterward.

The evening brought on bell ringing and more bell ringing, followed by drinks and billiards with an eclectic group of people. Such a melodic ending to a sweet day.

Tuesday:

Met up with a friend on campus for tea for the first time since arriving. We sat on a worn leather couch, in front of a sun-warmed window, and sipped creamy tea. The tea house is called Curiositea. I hope to frequent this establishment more.

Wednesday:

An unexplainable power outage ended our Statistics lecture early. I can't say I was terribly bothered by this.

Thursday:

Received news today that the Liverpool Bell Ringing Extravaganza hit some road-bumps. The cost to attend sky-rocketed due to unforeseen last minute changes. As torn as I was about which decision to make, I chose to remain in Coventry for the weekend and vowed to join the bell ringers for their next extravaganza. I don't usually like to pass on these rare opportunities. Waiting for that proverbial "next time" or "later" is not the type of behaviour that feeds a fulfilling forward momentum. The creed of my brief time on this planet.

Little did she know...

"Little did he know that this simple, seemingly innocuous act would result in his imminent death... I've written papers on 'Little did he know.' I've taught classes on 'Little did he know.' I once gave an entire seminar based upon 'Little did he know.''Little did he know', That means there's something he doesn't know, which means there's something you don't know, did you know that?"

Friday:

Little did she know...

With the fall-through of my Bell Ringing Extravaganza weekend in Liverpool, it was decided that I have dinner with my local Rotary Club hosts, Terry & Carole, tonight. (The Rotary Club of Coventry, District 1060) I had a delicious home-cooked dinner of pasta & veggie/tomato sauce with a side of white wine and some sort of sponge cake with golden syrup, drowned in custard. Delicious. I was so hungry when I arrived that I must admit to eating everything they offered. Thank goodness it was just a two-course meal! Terry & Carole are extremely nice people and I'm so glad I finally got to met them. They offered some great advice for getting around and dining in the UK, as well as scheduling a day out for gift shopping and sight-seeing. They made me feel completely at ease and I only wish now that I had been able to stay longer.

[The rare] Saturday:

Little did she know...

Being unexpectedly home-based allowed me the opportunity to attend a friend's birthday party in Leamington Spa. It was a lovely affair, teaming with a world-wide taste of fun. Wine, liqueurs, limes, gin, people, and birthday cake circled all night. I couldn't stop thinking, however, that the addition of one more guitar, keyboard, or voice would have made the whole affair even better.

Delicious birthday cake on posh new dishes.

I see you.....

Good company. Good night :)

Fifth & Sixth Week-Term 1

FIFTH WEEK:

I vaguely remember a society meeting. Talking. Wondering the streets.

A blur.
Assessment #1 due.
Therefore, a blur.

Or perhaps more succinctly:

P → Q
P       
∴ Q

Through the haze and deluded details of the week, the little things became my daily markers of life.

• Getting accustomed to the English keyboards. In other words, trying to not hit the '#' key located next to the narrow 'Enter' key. 
• Dropping a pound coin into the locker key slot at the gym every time I want to go for a round on the treadmill.
• The strangely soft *smoosh* of fallen leaves.
• Tea. Black tea. And more tea.
• Adjusting my very narrow duvet about a thousand times a night.

Friday:
The postgrads blew off some steam the night after Halloween. We had our first assessment due Friday afternoon, so naturally no one went out Thursday evening (Halloween). Not an easy night to get pictures, but I did manage to snag one.

SIXTH WEEK

Monday:
At some point during the fifth week of lectures, I suggested a yoga session once a week for just us postgrads. The back pain and leg stiffness has increased at an exponential rate since lectures began. It was a small leap to assume my fellow classmates were experiencing the same thing. When I made the suggestion everyone flipped-the-eff-out. I don't believe I could have received a more excited reply if I had offered them cold, hard cash. Our first yoga session was today during our midday break. Good turn out. Good practice. More sessions were requested at the end. Yeah!

Movie night:The Fountain (Hugh Jackman, Rachel Weisz)
Exactly the amount of existentialism I expected. A really lovely experience, all the same. Check it out when you can.

Tuesday:
What happened to Tuesday? Rain happened to Tuesday. Beautiful rain.

Wednesday:
News was passed down today that there's a bell ringing extravaganza in Liverpool. Northern Universities Association of Change Ringers. Why would I not go?

Also, just as we started to get comfortable with our statistical software "R", we abandon it for a new one. Such is life.

Thursday:
I don't think I can accurately express my elation after today's events. If I questioned my actions before, I no longer have need to question them again. Picture it:

It's been a long day, nay, a long week. Seven disgruntled graduate students sit around a privately booked room, each tapping away at his/her own laptop. One student asks a poignant question about a linear expression. Another student hesitantly answers. A third student concurs and they all dive back into their own symbolic-based language systems. A student in the corner reads aloud her ideas on the most elegant expression for a regression model. Another agrees. The tapping continues. A tall student shares his thoughts on post hoc testing. Another student disagrees. A heated debate ensues. They agree to both testing formats. The tapping plays on....


Assessment #2 complete.

Fourth Week-Term 1

I don't care if Monday's black:

Still enjoying the residuals from Sunday's Hermitage visit. As strange as it feels to jump on an unmarked bus with a bunch of people I don't know, sharing a massive language barrier, with no idea of our direction or time table, t here's still something delicious about it.

The fear that leads to knowledge.

Then, of course, ending the evening with the lovely Bell Ringing Society.

The bells, the bells!

Isolated, cold in their tower of echos,

Ringing, ringing!

As cadavers absorb my vibrations.

Tuesday, Wednesday - heart attack:

Caught a last-minute train to Liverpool to attend a last-minute Q&A with Lawrence Krauss.
It was almost everything I would never expect from a night with a superstar Physicist.
My review and the pictures of the beautiful Liverpool & the Lawrence Q&A are here.

The University of Liverpool Humanists blogged about it (used my pics!).
And another Liverpoolian gave his 2-cents as well <- This guy asked a great question, too.

Class was cancelled on Wednesday so I lucked out completely. Took an easy train ride back. Worked on the new R language.

Thursday, never looking back:

Went for a run EVERY DAY THIS WEEK. My arms can barely move from the push-ups & pull-ups I'm thrashing my way through. I have a goal. Fully unsupported handstand. It requires just the right ratio of weight:strength. Then ability steps in. I could do supported headstands before. I want to surpass that previous plateau.

Ended up in Leamington Spa for the evening having dinner, playing pool, and just generally hanging out with the local WASH Society. The night's meeting was all about opening a dialogue on the efforts and effects of religious forces. One member played the proper Devil's Advocate, though he did seem to have trouble committing to the role since he didn't agree with any of it. It gave me an opportunity to test the English waters on local policies, opinions, segregations, etc. It was the general understanding that, after comparing notes, the UK has had remarkably fewer segregation & exclusionary laws than the US, particularly if you're focussing on the last 120 years.

Ran into an extremely inebriated young hair-dresser around midnight who insisted on hitting on almost all the guys in the group. Then, inevitably, he targeted me as the one to dump his problems on. Wow, so honoured (that's sarcasm children).

Leamington Spa, however, is a lovely little slice of England worth visiting. Check out some pics here.

It's Friday, I'm in love.

Since I borrowed from them, I shall share them. Enjoy:

Liverpool & Physics

Received last minute information that something awesome was going down Tuesday evening at the University of Liverpool.

In my world, you can't call yourself a proper scholar if you pass up an opportunity to listen to this guy (or any of the other superstars of contemporary science). For those not familiar with the superstars, here is a link to my favorite panel discussion with my favorite science superstars, Sci Fi author, and more (Part 1, Part 2). In my opinion, Part 2 has the best parts of the entire discussion session.

Liverpool is a stunning city! It used to be known for sketchy alleyways and massive crime. Local law enforcement and citizens have done a wonderful job cleaning the place up and making it a beautiful city to visit.

Check it out...

If you read any Terry Pratchett, you may be familiar with this abandoned Post Office. In particular, I suggest reading the book "Going Postal," then watch the movie.

Leaf on Bold Street, where I received great service and pretty good food too. The coffee was perfect.

The bombed out church. The exterior walls are still holding strong, just no roof or interior... or windows. They show movies off the interior back wall sometimes. How great is that?!

I can't remember what this wild monstrosity is called, but it's a church the size of the SuperDome and the locals refer to it as the Wigwam. 

Stayed in a hostel overnight, Hatter's Hostel on Mount Pleasant. I can't say I'm a hostel fan, but one look at this ominous, grand exterior and I knew I had to give it a go.

I had the privilege of meeting employees on every shift for the 24 hours I was in Liverpool. Every employee was extremely nice and, in my opinion, the second best feature of the hostel. First best was the free WIFI. 

You would think that the beds with a roof overhead were the best features. But let's be honest here, this is a hostel. I was grateful for a secure, dry place to crash for 3 hours, but the bedbugs, plastic sheets & duvet, and the 7 other sleepers made it a bit difficult to fully relax. It was all worth it, though, when I eased myself into the top bunk and was lulled to sleep by the late-night rain. At least I slept so soundly that I didn't notice the bedbugs until I left. 

The ambiance was exactly what you would expect from a hostel. Private little nooks in the commons to curl up in and read while sipping 24-hour-free coffee & tea. As well as scary hallways with only one working light ("working" = "flickering").

The walk to my room was no picnic.

But my whole reason for being in Liverpool was to listen to Lawrence Krauss. He was in London the day before, shooting a movie with some other people, and the head of the student Humanist society at Liverpool University asked if Lawrence would speak at the university before he left back to the states. To everyone's surprise, super-cool-awesome-guy Lawrence said yes.

I don't know if there will be a video of his talk. Since his attendance was so last-minute, the hosting societies didn't have a lot of time to set everything up proper. He mostly answered questions and discussed his perspectives on physics today and where it could go (or not go) in the future. I had the opportunity to thank him for lending his voice to a specific education decision in Texas that finally came to a close the day before I left for Liverpool. Lawrence laughed, graciously accepted my thank you, then filled in the rest of the young, Liverpoolian audience on Texas current events. 

I was second row, center. For a change, no one blocked my view of the main event.

After the talk and pictures made to make everyone look uncomfortable, we went out for a bite to eat. Many of the other students preferred liquid suppers on this particular occasion.

This place was so posh, that even the lady's restroom was stunning. It was also covered with framed pastels of half naked women bathing. Hmmm.

The female side of the room.

The male side of the room.

At one point Lawrence had to leave for a Skype meeting. After a bit a student noticed that Lawrence left his pint of ale half finished. It was at that moment that I realized the writers of the Big Bang Theory are not that far from the mark. At least 10 physics students shared in Lawrence's leftover libations just for the sake of sharing a bit of DNA.

This was all possible because of the fanatical work of the Physics & Humanist societies at the University of Liverpool. Thank you!

Here are a couple other different perspectives on the Lawrence In Liverpool Experience:

Malburn

Ed