PTSD

And then it's all over (or, what to do when you're outed)

Went to bed at 5am (yes, academics live demanding lives, full of research and writing, toiling away into the early hours of the morning). When waking up, was confronted by the detritus of wine and beer containers, empty glasses and remnants of foie gras still on the picnic tables outside my flat. For your reference, I'm definitely searching for these folks at future conferences. They know how to enjoy the good life in addition to having the best Mother-in-law stories. Anyway, walked in late to class to find that I'd been outed as a blogger. Suffered pangs of panic in case I'd slagged off anyone. Realise my usual style is to slag off all and sundry. Hope people still talk to me after that. Get increasingly worried in case they sic Darkliquid Private Security Operators on me. Decide not to open my flat door this evening in case black-clad blokes with rifles burst in and take me away to a secret location. PTSD readers, if you don't hear from me by tomorrow, call E. Wait, on second thoughts (considering E's incommunicado), call my Mum.

Dinner last night was at the marvellous Wren Building at the college, designed by Christopher Wren. Someone took the time to explain this to me so I am sharing. I hear the beef was good but since I don't eat meat, I can't comment on that. The after dinner speaker was Cofer Black. He did mention something but that's off the record (or so we were told) so there yous go. The food was good, the company fun (some of the same people who ended up at the late night story-telling/drinking session at the picnic tables.) and I only wish "qualitative" folks did a gig as nice. Though if they did, I'm not sure I'd go since it'd mean having to participate more instead of just sitting, eating, drinking and telling stories.

Today was weird. Going to bed at 5am and waking up at 9am is not conducive to terrorising (especially if it's not real terrorising where you presumably have an adrenaline rush going before you do anything). Turned up for the "Game Theory and Terrorism" section, which made rational choice modelling seem like shiny, happy, methodology. Was (almost) convinced that I should start formal modelling and realised I may be slowly losing my mind (which is what Game Theory probably does to one). That's what 8 days of free food and alcohol does to you.

Sneaked off in the afternoon (and hence missed what seemed like a potentially fun session on simulating terrorism--what did they do, I wonder? Pretend to be terrorists and Governments? Shoot each other for real now that we've practiced at Darkliquid?) to watch the best match of the World Cup so far. I do not often say these words but here I go: I love (the) America(n) football (soccer) team. I do. Despite having a public seemingly-indifferent to the sport, the team's always played hard and run fast and they always keep trying. Technically, they are not sound; aesthetically, they are not Brazil (though did anyone else watching see Brian McBride take his top off at every op? The man has a fantastic upper body*) but they run and pass well. If only they'd not been so crap versus the Czechs. Now, my two favourite teams in the group--Ghana (on 3 points) and the USA (on 1 point) play each other. If Italy beat the Czechs and the USA win, I think the USA will still go through to the second round but Ghana won't. It's bloody unfair one of them is not in Spain's group. Or Portugal's. Or England's.

In any case, the match was great. I don't much like the Italians (did yous notice their sideburns? Even their sideburns were shaved and perfectly shaped) but they usually manage to get the job done. This time, though, if they'd had a bit of luck, the USA should have easily won. Oh, I also think I got macked on (a new word in my vocabulary from last night. Not sure if that's how it's used) at the football-watching. Surprisingly, the bar was packed (easily around 50 people in the bar). Some bloke, who I thought was just surprisingly friendly (and people do start talking during these matches, as you know, especially if the match is as heated as the USA-Italy one) and his mates (including--and I do know how to pick them--the one Italian supporter in the pub) were sitting at my table. At the end, he was asking if I wanted to go out "have a drink later".**

Went back to the Workshop, said goodbye and am now holed up in my flat with my computer. Got a lovely green Workshop T-shirt out of this--I'll get E to take a pic of me in it and put it up when I get back to Washington. In the end, the thing was fantastic. I am definitely searching these people (well, the ones I actually did talk to) out at future conferences. Though I may have been disappeared by then.



* IntLaw's probably going to refuse to ever watch football with me after that comment. But, did yous see McBride take his kit off (well, not all his kit, of course). He's been about ever since I've watched the USA play and I'll miss him when he retires. What's up with Christiano Ronaldo though? Is his sunscreen orange or has he been wearing fake tan (if so, why?)? The kid looked like a tangerine in this morning's match (but his penalty was lovely).

** In case yous think I'm bragging about my pulling power in a space reserved for academic conversations, let me tell yous (and PTSD folks who know me in RL already know this) this is an extremely rare event and hence worth writing about. Probably even worth taping and replaying every once in a while, when I'm dissertating, so I know there's a whole world out there somewhere away from my computer.

Oh and I said no. I've got loads of TUWSNBN work to do tonight as I've spent the past three days, sitting on the picnic benches with a bunch of folks, telling and listening to (what may politely be called "extremely indelicate") stories till the wee hours of the morning. Besides, remember what your mum told you about going off with strange blokes in pubs (in case you are wondering, she probably said not to do it. It's apparently never a good idea).

posted by Priya @ 5:35 PM