Life in a cold climate
 
Good to see that Blogger is introducing more spangly things into the text menu. Like colour. Not that colourful text is really any good at all. Unless, of course, you are ten years old and feel the need to hide from your teacher that you have no idea what you were talking about and stumble upon the idea that colourful words might take the teacher's opinion and focus away from that dreadful storyline with no plot, little character development and dialogue that resembled George Lucas' deranged rantings on love and its resemblance to sand.
 
I had a meeting with Graeme (supervisor no 1) on Friday and I'm not really sure how it went. Why? Well, I turned up 3 hours late which probably wasn't that useful or endearing. I have a very good excuse, of course. Thursday night had seen Nic, Fi, Will, Ben and I travel to BP on Fendalton road to pick up some much needed Pie after welcoming Si (still not fat) back and grooving along with Vibraslap and Micky Finn's. On the way back to town to drop Will, Nic and violent, violent Fi back we (thankfully) noticed that there was a great big lamp-post in the middle of the road. Which we avoided and dropped Will off. Fi was quite keen on calling the police but the others shouted her down and called her mean names. I was too busy trying to avoid the lampposts to really have any say in the matter. After dropping Nic and Fi off to go to bed/spend more time fighting/ring the cops Ben and I decided that we'd better go a try and move the big lightpost/lamp-post out of the traffic. Discovering that it was to big to move out of one lane without putting it in another, we rang Vertigo and asked Pete to tell the others to make sure the cops were called - Nic's muffled screams as Fi targeted his ankle using her patented 'elbow o' doom' was amusing. Sadly, both Ben and I are imbued with some form of 'community spirit'. For this I blame my parents and Ben's parents. It cost me much sleep. While waiting for the police to turn up we tried to wave cars into the correct lane. Unfortunately the downed big thing that used to have a light on the end was located on a semi-blind corned on Fendalton Road just over the railway tracks heading toward town. Which meant that Ben and I would wave frantically at cars who would then slam on their break and miss us and the big think by mere inches. We certainly stopped one insanely fast taxi-van (complete with trailer) from hitting the bulb with his right front wheel at pace. (The bulb was 2/3 over the inside right lane). It has to be said that I appeared pretty cowardly. When cars drive at me fast, years of conditioning in Blenheim have taught me not to play chicken. It is better to act chicken and live to run away screaming like a little girl another day. So I was pretty close to diving over the median barrier a couple of times. Not Ben, however. Despite the fact he was wearing a fetching, bright red jumper - which made him a better target - he stood even further away from safety than I, and never flinched once. It's that kind of disregard for his own physical and mental wellbeing which makes him perfectly suited to having a relationship.
 
Anyway - after doing that for 3/4 of an hour to an hour the bloke from Orion showed up and swore a lot. I think he preferred the days of yore when posts were concrete posts, and crazy drivers who drove into them were dead.
 
Naturally, Ben and I dot to bed much later than we were expecting - I thus slept in and missed the meeting with supervisor. Met with him later. Odd meeting. Two main points. 1) I have a very fascinating and good thesis and thesis structure. 2) It is very odd and no-one has ever structured a thesis like this before.
 
Maybe it needs more colour.