Just found a gadget to link my picasa web album to blogger. Hopefully it'll work, but then it is IT, so fully expect it to collapse taking all of your files with it and then fiddle with your relatives in an undesirable fashion. Two posts in one day! Surely no one can live at this speed...
...
As expected, it didn't work at all. Still, you can look to the right to see them scrolling around
Thursday 1 January 2009
Happy New Year!
Well, it's ridiculous-o'clock on the first day of the new year and I'm up nice and early on account of being like some bearded Mogwai who shouldn't be given coffee after 6pm. I seem to have reached the age where caffeine at night causes my brain to, after a brief period of deception where it pretends everything is ok and feigns sleep, kick into overdrive and begin to search for answers to questions way beyond its reach like Jade Goody on Mastermind with a specialist subject of "Fings wot ain't in my house". So rather than lie there trying to solve mysteries of interest which may perhaps in the long run better humanity and lead to a more Utopian existence, I instead choose to get up, make a cup of tea, provide the cat with enough pseudo-breakfast to keep it quiet long enough for Liz to emerge from sleep like a stumbling dormouse coming out of hibernation, power up the mac and spout crap on a blog.
A few things haven't changed since my last entry in, ahem, May. My blogging has taken on the properties of gym membership, sitting there quietly in the background like a nagging guilt which you promise to address at some point, after all, you said you would but you're still resting after you felt a twinge in that muscle in 1975, just to be sure and besides, there's a rerun of River Cottage that you've only seen 5 times and don't want to miss. At least no one ever tried and failed to get into a little black dress and spent the evening weeping in front of a mirror half-naked and crying "Why am I a monster?!" because they didn't type enough. The other thing that hasn't changed is that Plymouth is still shit. The one thing Plymonians don't seem to get for christmas is a desire to throw anything in a bin, so the city currently looks like a place Wombles would come for a busman's holiday, with the added advantage of feeling like The Beautiful People as they wandered amongst the locals. "Well, I may be fat and hairy, Uncle Bulgaria, but in the southwest, I'm the new Lindsay Lohan". Southwest water are about to embark on another War on Asphalt on our street as they've realised that they've left it to its own devices for 20 minutes and they don't want it getting too acquainted with the paving stones, which have been covered in dogshit since roman times. The letter describing the upcoming 6 weeks of chaos can basically be summed up as "We know there's nowhere to park now, so we're going to turn half the street into a chasm. If you have any ideas on how to alleviate the impending likelihood of people having to drive around for six weeks, we're keen to hear new ideas. Like how to build an elevator to the moon, because by our calculations, that's the nearest available space."
On the upside, I am now officially a PhD student after being offered a place during the summer after talking to some people whilst volunteering at Plymouth Marine Laboratories. So I am to spend the next three years studying the accumulation of polyphosphates in marine bacteria. Now, on the surface, that sounds like some pretty dull shit. Under the surface however, well, it still sounds like a topic which would drive you to seek out railway enthusiasts at a recovering alcoholic's wedding unless you are a true gene geek. Dig a little deeper though and there's some seriously interesting stuff. Polyphosphates were around long before ATP and so have been providing critters with energy since critters stopped eating cakes and watching Jeremy Kyle and required it. Consequently, evolution has driven them to be key components in a whole host of biological functions such as pathogenicity, UV protection and survival in water with fewer nutrients than a happy meal and so there's plenty to be looking into. The research is funded by Queens University Belfast, so I shall be spending some time out in Ireland and hopefully doing a stint in Oregon under the masterful gaze of Lord Steve Giovannoni, Commander of Growing things which Do Not Wish To Be Grown. Doing the PhD now also means I won't be graduating from Plymouth University, which is a shame as their ceremony has no expense spared and has recently been upgraded from the local ice skating rink to a tent in the windiest, wettest part of the city. Hopefully I'll still get to witness the clapping and cheering of elated parents interrupted by shouts of "Don't touch the sides!".
Liz has also found herself in cheerier times as she is now teaching fashion at Plymouth College of Art and Design. Now, given that a pasty-derived meat dripping stained plymouth argyle football shirt is the epitome of chic in this fourth circle of hell just off the A38, studying fashion in Plymouth is rather akin to studying marine biology in a desert, so the calibre of her students isn't exactly top class. However, she does have some gems amongst the turds and she's enjoying moulding their talents whilst terrifying the others with trips to such far flung places as London and Bath.
So yes. Hopefully 2009 will continue in the same vein as the tailend of 2008, with the following goals in mind:
A few things haven't changed since my last entry in, ahem, May. My blogging has taken on the properties of gym membership, sitting there quietly in the background like a nagging guilt which you promise to address at some point, after all, you said you would but you're still resting after you felt a twinge in that muscle in 1975, just to be sure and besides, there's a rerun of River Cottage that you've only seen 5 times and don't want to miss. At least no one ever tried and failed to get into a little black dress and spent the evening weeping in front of a mirror half-naked and crying "Why am I a monster?!" because they didn't type enough. The other thing that hasn't changed is that Plymouth is still shit. The one thing Plymonians don't seem to get for christmas is a desire to throw anything in a bin, so the city currently looks like a place Wombles would come for a busman's holiday, with the added advantage of feeling like The Beautiful People as they wandered amongst the locals. "Well, I may be fat and hairy, Uncle Bulgaria, but in the southwest, I'm the new Lindsay Lohan". Southwest water are about to embark on another War on Asphalt on our street as they've realised that they've left it to its own devices for 20 minutes and they don't want it getting too acquainted with the paving stones, which have been covered in dogshit since roman times. The letter describing the upcoming 6 weeks of chaos can basically be summed up as "We know there's nowhere to park now, so we're going to turn half the street into a chasm. If you have any ideas on how to alleviate the impending likelihood of people having to drive around for six weeks, we're keen to hear new ideas. Like how to build an elevator to the moon, because by our calculations, that's the nearest available space."
On the upside, I am now officially a PhD student after being offered a place during the summer after talking to some people whilst volunteering at Plymouth Marine Laboratories. So I am to spend the next three years studying the accumulation of polyphosphates in marine bacteria. Now, on the surface, that sounds like some pretty dull shit. Under the surface however, well, it still sounds like a topic which would drive you to seek out railway enthusiasts at a recovering alcoholic's wedding unless you are a true gene geek. Dig a little deeper though and there's some seriously interesting stuff. Polyphosphates were around long before ATP and so have been providing critters with energy since critters stopped eating cakes and watching Jeremy Kyle and required it. Consequently, evolution has driven them to be key components in a whole host of biological functions such as pathogenicity, UV protection and survival in water with fewer nutrients than a happy meal and so there's plenty to be looking into. The research is funded by Queens University Belfast, so I shall be spending some time out in Ireland and hopefully doing a stint in Oregon under the masterful gaze of Lord Steve Giovannoni, Commander of Growing things which Do Not Wish To Be Grown. Doing the PhD now also means I won't be graduating from Plymouth University, which is a shame as their ceremony has no expense spared and has recently been upgraded from the local ice skating rink to a tent in the windiest, wettest part of the city. Hopefully I'll still get to witness the clapping and cheering of elated parents interrupted by shouts of "Don't touch the sides!".
Liz has also found herself in cheerier times as she is now teaching fashion at Plymouth College of Art and Design. Now, given that a pasty-derived meat dripping stained plymouth argyle football shirt is the epitome of chic in this fourth circle of hell just off the A38, studying fashion in Plymouth is rather akin to studying marine biology in a desert, so the calibre of her students isn't exactly top class. However, she does have some gems amongst the turds and she's enjoying moulding their talents whilst terrifying the others with trips to such far flung places as London and Bath.
So yes. Hopefully 2009 will continue in the same vein as the tailend of 2008, with the following goals in mind:
- Learn everything there is to know about phosphates and the collecting of phosphates in microbes.
- Do more photography. I may start posting the photos on here so I can add insightful comments like "This is a picture of my cat licking its arse, where I've tried to capture the conflict between the drive for cleanliness and the realisation that she now has poo on her tongue. It was taken in the "drunk" style, with my thumb adding foreground interest".
- Reacquaint myself with my xbox
- Blog more
- Actually Blog more
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