Where are the crazy ones?

I haven’t found a crazy girl yet.

There’s always been at least one crazy girl in my life: the one who’d tramp over at 1am to waltz through the Greenwich Foot Tunnel, who’d share a bottle in Hoxton encased in a red leatherette minidress, who’d skip work for a half hour of philosophy in Starbuck’s. The kind of girl who just sucks in her breath and says ‘Okay’ inside her head, appreciating the payoff of people who aren’t-quite-normal.

I thought this environment would be conducive to such encounters, but, hey, I’m on the MBA programme and everyone here’s all about the money. And I learnt several weeks ago that dating undergrads is just plain sad.

Where are the crazy ones? There are lots of great NORMAL girls, but…?

Now THERE’S a vivid thought

Operations Management class, 3pm today: “This pig farm I visited in Eastern Europe is among the largest in the world. They employ six people whose job is purely to inseminate female pigs!”

The class goes silent for a moment. I pipe up: “What – you mean, with equipment I hope?!”

The image in my mind at this moment is unbloggable.

(Even more muffled hilarity ensued when I tried to explain the verb ‘inseminate’ to the Greek guy sitting next to me with a few pelvic thrusts.)

Whining about wine

The mist settles majestically over the Warwick University campus. The evening chill wraps the buildings in a shroud of cold, and the ducks quack rhythmically as I…

… dropkick their feathery asses back into the lake to stop them cluttering up the path.

I can’t BELIEVE I’ve just spilled a whole glass of wine over my laptop. Amazingly, it’s still working, but I’ve done this before and killed a laptop with it. The critical factor is when you press a key: that lets the exquisite fermented grape juice soak into the motherboard and give you a mother of a problem. So the thing to do is lay paper towels over the affected area, turn up the heating, and let every drop soak up. Which. Takes. Time. Which is why I’m stomping around campus kicking the asses of our avian friends.

(Wine is a conductor, so if the stuff dries on your ‘board you’re screwed.)

Fortunately, I risked a single touchpad swipe to back up all my stuff onto my 500GB NAS, so no data’s in danger. But with three assignments outstanding, this wasn’t exactly the night to pickle my laptop in Sauv Blanc…

(And before anyone sends one of those smartass emails: I have a spare laptop.)