A productive day

A very productive day today. I went to an introduction meeting for the new tutors in English Language and got very freaked out. Not having ever been a tutee, I don’t know what to expect in a tutorial – and then the first thing they want me to discuss is phonetics which I consider my weak point. Fortunately W.B., who has years of teaching experience with sixth-formers, took me through it and it doesn’t seem too bad now. My first tutorial is on Friday afternoon. Bring ’em on!

Office
I also moved into my office today. There’s four of us sharing it, and then there’s four other rooms with a varying number of people in it, so it’s quite busy in the building. It’s a top floor flat and through the small window you can look out over the city. I have no idea which direction we’re facing, but I think I could see Arthur’s Seat. Which doesn’t make sense cause the side Arthur’s Seat is on should be solid brick wall. I can’t figure it out cause it’s a spiral staircase and I have no idea how many times I’ve gone round by the time I arrive at the top floor; and then I am not exactly sure of the flat layout.

We were issued with computers. Not the fantastic shiny new MiniMacs that they have in the university library now – no, old massive coal-driven PCs. The best thing of all is that they didn’t seem to come with a monitor. Once they do, it’ll probably be equally massive CRT screens. Oh well, you can’t have it all I suppose, and I have a working computer at home anyway. Plus I tend to hand-write notes, so what do I really need a computer at the office for?

Work
Work continues on the same note as the previous days. Stuff on language shift, stuff on early French language policies. What I’ve read today echoes the stuff I read earlier. To me that’s a sign that I’m on the right way. There’s some more books that I have to take out still, but I think by the end of the week I should be able to make a nice overview and see where I’ll be going from there.

Dem class
Tonight is Bob’s class and dem class. With Bob being away in Firbush, N.W. is taking the class, so it’s technically not Bob’s class. When N.W. agreed to doing it, he said “It’ll be fun”, and I think it will be. Will N.W. be able to challenge F.C.’s number of attendees tonight? The publicity drive they did on Thursday seems to have worked so far...

Dem class will have a new teacher, L.G. She replaces L.G., just to make things nice and clear. L.G. (the new one) is from the RSCDS Dunfermline, and apparently she’s heard about the New Scotland rendition of Mairi’s Wedding. I’m sure we can reassure her that we know the difference between demming poshly and dancing for sheer fun. I thought the version we did at the IALS dem last Thursday was RSCDS-approved, but apparently one is supposed to pass left shoulder in the Mairi’s Wedding reels. I suppose RSCDS dancers go a wee bit slower than we do so they don’t fly out of the turn...

At dem class I will also need to ask J.G. if he and his band can play for the two cèilidhs this term that A.K. couldn’t play for. I hope he’s available; otherwise I’ll need to find out the telephone numbers for some of the other bands on our list.

Boring
According to a test I did at LiveJournal, my LiveJournal is annoying because I’m boring. I dont’t have a LiveJournal, but I am thinking this goes for my Blogger blog as well. It just looks better.

Where there’s smoke...

Last Saturday the meat got burnt without warning me, today the fire alarm went off because I was making soup and M.G. had taken a shower and there was just a wee bit of steam hanging around in the corridor. That thing needs to get its priorities right. Also, I have no idea how to actually stop a fire alarm, except from yanking out the battery and putting it back some time later in the hope it won’t go off again. Apparently you need to wave a tea towel underneath it. I think fire alarms should come with a snooze button.

Work
So many books taken out, but they all seem to be about twentieth-century case studies in the Americas, Asia or Australia. Please give me some solid theory or historical European stuff! An article (well, half a book) by Fishman was useful, it questions some general presuppositions and also has a couple of useful contrasts that you want to consider if you’re doing comparative case studies.

Also read a bit on the history of language policies in France. It seems that minority languages were quite well-off during the oppressive Ancien Régime, while the real francification only started after the French Revolution, because everyone had to understand the message of liberty. You can draw nice parallels to the russification efforts in the Soviet Union, and perhaps to the present de facto American cultural imperialism. It’s ironic how despite all the talk about liberty, linguistic minorities get their rights and identities taken away from them.

Seems like Fishman’s polemics are rubbing off then...

Prosody
Staying in France, I randomly downl... acquired a French radio comedy sketch which is supposedly an interview with singer Francis Cabrel. J.M. introduced me to Cabrel last year, and the one CD that she gave me has been coming by in iTunes on a regular basis. There is something about Cabrel that makes him different from all the other French stuff I have. Something funky, but I could never put my finger on it.

Until this radio sketch. The comedians had Cabrel misplacing word stress on pretty much every word: the themes of his new album were the same as ever, ‘les chemains pleins de cailloux au fond de la rivière’ but ‘la différence est qu’il est nouveau’. Listening to his songs again, I realize it must be that what makes it so funky.

Too bad the comedians killed themselves laughing during the sketch.

Step, shuffle, hop, tap tap
I went to step class tonight. I had done step once before on Freshers’ Weekend ’04, but I never got the hang of the rhythm. But it was worth another try; and M.G. and C.A. were going as well so I wouldn’t look completely stupid. Much to our suprise though, there were about twenty people at step class. What?! Step is supposed to have at best five people there, including the teacher. Oh well. I got the rhythm of the step, shuffle, hop, tap tap bit now – and I might even return next week.

Going to the Pleasance Bar after step class is a bad idea. Monday night is pub quiz night. I did find out how Teviot is paying for lowering coke prices from 90p to 85p: the Pleasance have upped theirs from £1.10 to £1.20. Leeches.

Wind
For much of the day it was very windy. Wheely bins travelling independently across the street-type windy. This goes arm in arm with a slight drizzle and quite comfortable temperatures so that it really doesn’t feel that bad. Of course it shouldn’t start pouring with rain when I’m on my way back from the shops with only 50 meters to go.

Our dryer has decided that after four hours of drying, laundry should preferably wetter than when you put it in. M.G. and I disagree but we haven’t been able to convince the dryer yet. With today’s weather, this is quite unfortunate.

Laziness

An article in the Vrij Nederland that I bought to read on the flight back to Edinburgh earlier this month, complains about how people nowadays seem to have forgotten how to be lazy. Holidays have become thrill-seeking expeditions and of course we need to take our mobiles to keep in touch with our work. Well, the author of that article can be proud of me: I did close to nothing today. Once I start writing it down it’ll seem like quite a bit, but it feels like a very lazy day.

Reading
The case studies in Fishman’s Reversing language shift were pretty useless, so more than some superficial skimming I didn’t have to do. This saved time. I have also decided that the shift away from Channel Island French is too late to be one of my case studies. It’s a pity, since no one has every heard of Channel Island French and therefore it is inherently cool, but I have enough possible case studies in France and Britain as it is so I’m not too bothered. I also went to the library to take out more books. I may need to start using that office I’ve been allocated cause there isn’t much room for more books in my room.

Single-itis
A related thought as I walked out of the library: why do all the cute ones smoke?

Measurements
According to a 2000 stocktake, New Scotland has 800 meters of clingfilm in storage. What they planned to do with it when they purchased it, I have no idea, and I’m quite curious as to how much is left five years later. To put things in perspective, this is half a mile of clingfilm. Which is four furlongs. Some odd people measure speed in furlongs per fortnight.

A.F. and I also worked out that there are 546 and 7/8 mites to a drachm. The decimal system may make a lot more sense – at least the interdependency between different units –, but imperial measurements definitely are more fun.

In incipio erat...

After ongoing gentle pressure from various friends, I have finally succumbed and I, too, am now a blogger. Although all those friends invariable keep LiveJournals, I decided that I didn’t quite like the way that one looked and having stumbled upon this blog thingy, I liked it better so here goes. I never actually managed to keep a journal going for more than, well, three days or so in the past, but that was before the age of broadband internet and dark autumn evenings with no television.

Rage
I was furious with rage with R.K. for just about exactly 48 hours. I have now calmed down to the level of disagreement. I can see the reasons why Thursday night went the way it went — although I can also think of reasons why it could have gone differently. But that is not the point. The point is to do with fake arguments, conveyance of messages and a fundamental difference in opinion on leadership styles. Ultimately this will need to be discussed. If it keeps on simmering, much nastiness may come of it. [More on simmering and nastiness below.]

Kilt
A.I. called me from the kilt shop. Funny how he was all formal, but I guess he had to be seeing as he was in function. My kilt was ready for collection. Much to my surprise, cause A.I. had said before that if I was lucky, I might just get it before Freshers’ Weekend. Which is still three weeks away. Anyway, it fits quite nicely — much better than the old one — and although it is quite a bit heavier you don’t feel that when you wear it. A Hector Russell kiltpin and tartan flashes were complimentary, so that was an expense I didn't have to make.

Vicky League
E-mailed J.F. to sign up for tomorrow’s Vicky League dem — I couldn’t remember whether I’d already signed up for it. These prove to be even more unchallenging this year than last year, due to the cancelling of all the country dance slots. No messing up dead-easy dances like Highland Rambler anymore, and ending up with J.F. in the middle of a 5-man circle doing random highland stuff — the Vicky League people don’t know what they’re missing.

Initially, J.F. had wanted to do Vicky Leagues in black t-shirts. Yay! But they insisted on pretend-authentic Scottish monkeywear. Boo! By the way, having just taken a bath and stood in front of a mirror, I am still not against N.M.’s idea for a costume. The kilt sits high enough to mask the absence of a six-pack, and the rest of me is quite decently formed. I think we would look quite good! [A.F. used the word «snazzy» today. Only A.F. can say silly words like that and get away with it.]

Book
Am reading Joshua Fishman’s Reversing language shift (1991). I had to trek to the Moray House Library to get it, and I’m as yet unsure as to whether it was worth it. It is very polemic and deals with language shift only from the viewpoint of how to counteract it. I hope the second part of the book with case studies [including some that are on my list of possibles] will be a bit more informative.

Simmering nastiness
With M.G. off to Glasgow for a C.H.E. event, I thought I would have a chance to eat food with a bit more spice. I’ve made this dish a gazillion times, and it’s very simple. Dice the meat, fry it, add water and some pasty stuff, stir, bring to the boil and let simmer for an hour and a half or so.

Which is why I could easily talk to A.F. on Skype for 45 minutes. But I had to interrupt that conversation because of a stench coming from the kitchen. That was the meat which had boiled dry in well under an hour. Well, maybe just an hour, as my computer clock and the kitchen clock are about ten minutes apart, but still it had no right to go bad on me! I tried to salvage the situation by picking out the really black bits and soothing the rest with yoghurt, but it proved hardly edible so I had to chuck it away and survive on just the celery. Good thing I like celery.

Single-itis
To finish off, then, I seem to be suffering from single-itis again. That happens every now and then and I’d really rather crawl away on the corner of my bed. Am trying to figure out what brought it on this time. It may have to do with the repercussions of Thursday night’s fiasco; or the fact that I saw D.J. again yesterday [from a distance]; or the fact that T.T. used the b-word with M.G.

iTunes is playing Fokofpolisiekar’s Vernietig jouself. I think I rather crawl into the corner of my bed instead.