I hung about after my Complex Analysis tutorial this morning to have a word with my second-term Algebra and Number Theory lecturer. I wanted to give him some positive feedback for yesterday's structured (!!!) revision lecture because he's clearly been struggling and has explicitely asked for feedback, something that a lot of students seem reluctant to give.* On discussing the course and how he might deliver it better next year, he admitted word for word that he was "making it up as it went along, really".

 

Always good to know...!

 

(Actually, it is good to know. Not that it helps our lot particularly, but if it means that he gets his arse in gear for next time round then somebody might be in with a chance. And boy, if someone had planned that set of lectures...)

 

 

*And credit to him, he does listen - I'd 'constructively criticised' his lack of structure at the end of last term. He's a nice guy and somehow knew who I was about two weeks into the course, which does make me feel a little responsible...

 

When you cut yourself, it's a short, sharp shock. It hurts like hell at the time, but once you've put some Savlon and a sticking plaster on it you start to forget about it, and after a couple of days or so the pain has gone and the cut has pretty much healed. A reminder not to be so clumsy with a razor or to use a grippy board when chopping onions. When you bruise yourself, however, it's the after-ache that's worse. It's only once it starts to turn funny colours and hurts unexpectedly when you lean on it that you really appreciate quite how hard you must have knocked the skin.

 

I got knocked six weeks ago and bruised myself. Afterwards I was numb, but surprisingly pain-free. Sure, there was a tell-tale niggle that things weren't quite right and I think that maybe I was just refusing to acknowledge that it should be hurting, but it really wasn't presenting any difficulties. It was in Berlin that the first aches came through and back here in Durham that the skin started to turn yellow around the edges. Now the dark purple is seeping in and for the first time last night, I cried. This one's going to take a while to heal.

 

I'm not 'fine', I'm not 'great, thanks!'. Yes, my holiday went well, thank you, and no, I would rather not have come back for exams, although revision's a darn sight easier to concentrate on here than at home. Yes, it's nice to see university friends again, but I met up with a good proportion of the ones that really matter to me over the holidays anyway and there are one or two who I would rather not be seeing again right now. And for all that revision's a boring, difficult slog and for all that timetable's already wearing me out, I'm finding it a handy excuse to take my mind off other things that are dragging me down when I do find time to think about them. No, I don't want to come out tomorrow, and no, to be quite frank, I don't want to know about that guy the other evening.

 

OK?

 

 

 

Way back when in February, I applied for a job with the OU. I didn't hear anything back for ages so assumed that it was a lost cause - until a couple of days ago when my college tutor told me that he'd been asked for a reference, and until this morning when they phoned me up in person and offered me a week's work on the Music course in Durham! It may be cutting a week out of the middle of my summer (and the school holidays)... but really, I can't afford not to go for it. It does look pretty interesting and will look better on my CV than just till work or whatever. What's more, it's an excuse to come back up to Durham when it's (hopefully) hot and pretty!

 

Woooo!

 

 

Today looks set to be a good day. I'm playing tactically and skipping a couple of my lectures which I'm pretty sure will be less than useful, and so in a few minutes will try and settle down to some Algebra revision. I do have a Numerical Analysis lecture at 3:15pm, then after that I will sort out my friend's birthday present and get ready for her murder mystery party this evening. I have been assigned the character Edith Le Grandbutte - "married, not altogether happily, to Huges [Max] and mother of the 18-yr-old Nicole [Maddie]. Used to be a dancer on the Parisian stage, and still yearns for the glamour of her former life. Suggested clothing: chic, elegant dress, emerald jewellery."

 

Nothing like a good bit of dressing-up to lift the spirits, eh?!

 

Durham University runs a term system, not a semester one. This has various implications as far as the structuring of the university goes, but the most immediate one for students is that the first two terms are solely new material, while the third is for revision, exams, and three final weeks of enjoying ourselves (the Holy Grail of each year at university!). Different departments treat these revision weeks differently. Some run skeleton timetable that you can turn up to if you want to. More 'practical' subjects have all now stopped labs. Some stop timetable altogether, and some, like Maths, run full timetable as normal. In fact, Maths run extra compulsory timetable, just in case we felt that we didn't spend enough hours in our life in a lecture theatre already.

 

I suppose it comes to the age-old argument that people work in different ways. It has been helpful, it is true, to have been reminded of topics and seen one or two types of question that we haven't seen since first term. It is true that it is nice to be able to ask questions, and that in being directed to a certain room at a certain time, we are given no choice whether to think about Complex Analysis or not.

 

But I am finding it very, very difficult to get down to any proper revision because I simply can't work with the bittiness of it all. I spent seven hours at the Science Site today - one hour Linear Algebra, one hour AMV*, one hour gap, one hour Codes, one hour Algebra and Number Theory, one hour which was meant to be Algebra and Number Theory, one hour Complex Analysis. How are you meant to get into any coherent frame of mind about a subject if you're constantly switching from one to another? One of the good things about the revision I did over Easter (when not gallivanting around England/ Germany, that is) was that I could start the day on AMV, spend three hours on something, maybe have a couple of hours break around the house or whatever, and then come back to AMV having already been thinking about it. I find that a much more productive way of working.

 

'Cos even when we have lecture gaps on the Science Site, we can't stay in one place after a lecture - and then by the time you've settled down in the library, you've only got forty minutes before you're off again, so you're keeping half an eye on the clock as well as trying to find where you left off. Add in to this the fact that some of the contact hours are inevitably more useful than others (ie. some are a complete waste of time, but of course you don't know beforehand which ones), and the fact that there are other jobs like vegetable shopping that then need to be done outside of lecture times and you can see why I'm getting frustrated. And the problem is that I have come home knackered but I still don't feel like I have done any hugely productive revision for the day so that's my evening gone as well**. I'm sure that my fellow Science students will be able to empathise :-)

 

 

That leads me on to a little explanation/ apology for the photo-delay on the last entry. While I do not intend to completely go fishing (as these are, after all, only second year exams and I do need to watch that I don't get too stressed, something which I have a mild propensity for!), there will probably be less entries/comments than usual; and those which there are will probably centre around Maths. Of course, it could completely go the other way as apathy/boredom kicks in. But consider this a warning of roadworks until 28th May 2008.

 

 

*AMV stands for Analysis in Many Variables, to answer a previous question of Flix's(?). Vector calculus, in other words!

**What's more, I feel guilty whingeing to my Geography housemate who has literally just spent nine solid hours in the library without a break or indeed food.

 

I felt they deserved a photo entry all of their own!

 

 

 

 

 

Look at the adjustable width fastenings! And the prettiness!!!

 

(In response to Callan's question: European size 42 corresponds roughly to a British 8½ - in fact the size of my feet, and indeed both these pairs of sandals are 42s. The problem is that European and English sizes don't match up neatly, so sometimes I need a 42 and sometimes I need a 43. You also have to watch it with British shoe shops because 'size 9' can be either - though they get round this problem by stopping most of their ranges at a 41 anyway.)

 

I have never had a German lesson in my life. My knowledge of that fine language consists entirely of snippets gleaned here and there – a couple of holidays in Austria and Switzerland, my Dad’s fluent kitchen-Öster-Deutsch, and whatever I’ve sung in the language (generally by Bach). So despite the fact that I won’t understand the reply when someone replies to my request for “noch eine heiße Schokolade” and despite the fact that my proudest phrase is the fantastically useful “der linken Blinken auf mein Krankenwagen is kaput!”, I have just spent five days in Berlin with Durham University German Society –

 

 

Monday: Fly out from Gatwick, checking in at 6:30am (urgh!). Discover that thirty people is too large a group to do everything in tandem with, so having finally arrived at the hostel, split off with Rhiannon, Helen, and Roz, and walk about half a mile to the East Side Gallery, the best surviving stretch of the Berlin Wall which is covered in artists’ murals (and unfortunately, rather a large amount of graffiti). Go up TV Tower and get fantastic panoramic views over Berlin. Are joined by another member of the party and find nice traditional German restaurant which even does vegetarian options! Get soaked coming back to hostel.

 

   

 

Tuesday: Meant to be cycle-tour day but chucking it down so everyone on the (free) English one decides to take cover elsewhere. Rhiannon, Roz and I go to the ‘Topography of Terror’ museum, an outside (sheltered) display in what’s left of the SS and Gestapo quarters. Spend a while looking for the fabled Stasi museum but land instead upon a tourist information centre with subtitled videos of the Nuremberg Trials. Meet Helen for lunch back in the more central portion of the city before walking down past the Brandenburg gate and to the Reichstag. Entry to the Reichstag involves queueing but is free, so go up into glass dome on top which has a fascinating mirror structure inside, and look out over the governmental district of Berlin. In the evening we head to Potsdamer Platz (the most modern part of Berlin that we encounter in our stay) and go to ‘Juno’ at the cinema. Is all in German with no subtitles (inevitably) but we all enjoy it despite our varying levels of understanding and I definitely, definitely want to see it again in English!

 

    

 

Wednesday: The day with the best weather. Mostly dry and even a little bright in the morning! Today is the day for Berlin Zoo, and we spend all day there and in the aquarium. A good time and some fantastic penguin impressions had by all. We are all pretty whacked by this point so for supper we head to a local Italian restaurant recommended by staff at the hostel, ‘Der Fliegentisch’ (‘The Flying Table’). Fantastic, not-too-complicated food at low prices and a lovely atmosphere!

 

 

Thursday: Helen and I go shopping in the morning while Rhiannon and Roz go to the Jewish Museum. Helen finally understands my shoe-issues but in a miraculous hour, I find not one but two pairs of beautiful, beautiful, comfortable sandals*! One pair comes from a wonderful, wonderful shop which has to turn women away if they come in looking for shoes under a European size 42. The satisfaction is enourmous! We meet up with the others for lunch, and then spend most of the afternoon discovering that despite Rhiannon’s skill with a compass on a mountainside, she cannot navigate in cities for toffee. We do eventually find the GDR museum, however, and spend a thoroughly enjoyable hour or two learning about East Germany in a very interactive way. We handle old books, we try on clothes from a sample East German wardrobe, and I discover that Trabants make the driving seats in Corsas look spacious! Grabbing some food on our way through Friedrichstraße, we then make our way to the Berlin Staatsoper, where there are last-minute €12 tickets going for Verdi’s ‘Don Carlo’. Even Roz and Rhiannon feel a bit awkward as we remove waterproofs and attempt to flatten our been-out-all-day-in-the-rain hair amongst the gilt décor and smartly dressed fellow opera-goers! The opera is pretty amazing and the singers and the orchestra both fantastic, although we wish it was an hour shorter – our attention-spans are waning by the second half, especially as those of us with little German are struggling to follow what’s going on and three-and-a-half hours is a long time even for people with healthy backs. But well worth going to nonetheless!

 

     

 

Friday: Rhiannon, Roz, and I walk up to a park just to the north of the hostel which has an elabourate fairy-tale fountain at one corner – and we all realise quite how much we’ve missed having any greenery! We then catch a U-Bahn and visit the site of Hitler’s bunker (a rather unremarkable car park in front of a block of flats) and the Holocaust memorial which has been erected by the German government with the last ten years. Finally we meet up with Helen and some of the other Durham students, and go to a hotel café near to the opera house where we treat ourselves to some incredibly yummy and incredibly expensive cake from a large, beautifully laid-out selection! We must then return to the hostel and get to the airport. We land in Britain at 7.25pm – I get onto the trains, and arrive back in New St at twenty to midnight.**

 

     

 

 

 

Interestingly, there was very little evidence of either the pre-1870 (Prussian) period or the first half of the 20^th century. I suppose that whatever we hadn’t bombed in the wars was torn down by the Stasi regime. One of the things that I find hardest to come to terms with is the fact that during the 1930s and the 1940s, the Communists were the ‘good guys’ organising resistance to the crimes of the Nazi regime, only to impose their own reign of terror two decades later.

 

 

 

 

*I did need some. As in, the leather of my old pair was nearly worn through and had literally turned yellow – not a good look for white sandals.

 

 

 

: the root cause, I assume, of my lovely, sweet, technologically-inept sister asking me for help when trying to share photos on 'photobookit.com'.

 

One of the things that I was really struck by at the Radiography Ball in Leeds was quite how much of a sense of community they had on their course, particularly amongst the third year group whose leaving-do it effectively was. I suppose there are obvious reasons for this - the time spent together in lectures, the weeks at university that other students have off, and in particular the practical nature of a lot of the work must all help to promote cohesion. In Durham, friendship and social groups tend to focus around the colleges, which is great from a lot of respects - it widens the circle of people you come into contact with, and it means that you're less dependent on getting to know others doing the same degree.

 

But for all the hours we spend together in lectures (not to mention Chem Café/ Techno Café), it struck me just how little community there is within the Maths Dept. Individual friendships have been made, of course, and I for one have got to know a lot more people from other colleges since we've all been living out. But there are still people in my lectures who I don't recognise, and making friends with people is still an effort - the instinct is to stick with people you know from college, or just to keep yourself to yourself, which is a shame, both from a social and from an academic point of view. The effect worsens, of course, when everyone is at home across the country, and it means that when things go wrong, there isn't necessarily anyone to turn to.

 

So having got stuck on a question from a particularly unpleasant AMV past paper last night, it suddenly occured to me that maybe what was needed was for someone to be proactive and create module groups online - forums, if you like, where we could ask each other questions and help each other along with revision, and somewhere for future years of second-year mathematicians to refer to. Teaching is as good a learning aid as any, of course, and sometimes people are just too damn awkward to admit that they don't understand something and ask for help.

 

I have used Facebook to create eleven such groups, one for each module, and am now waiting with baited breath...

 

I can now spend an entire evening in my inch-high heels without falling over, and even dance a little (as far as I can dance at all, that is, which isn't very far). I still take my time on steps, however.

 

I am a morning person! Not, maybe, as far as most of the population goes, but waking up at 8/9am in the holidays apparently qualifies you thus for the student population. I would hasten to point out that this latens to 10am or thereabouts during stressful term-time.

 

I really must learn to recognise 'Mr Brightside' before it gets to the line "I'm Mr Brightside!" about a third of the way in.

 

My diet contains a lot of salad and a lot of bread. And vegetables, which is all good :-)

 

Leeds University is, in fact, a campus.

 

I like buses which run on time, and buses with leg room. I appreciate both of these things a lot in life in general, come to think about it.

 

'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time' is a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful book, and if you haven't read it already then you should definitely do so. Although not written from an absolute first-person perspective, I presume, it really could be - everything smacks of authenticity, and Mark Haddon must have worked very, very closely with autistic teenagers. And he has the mathematician's perspective spot-on as well, albeit dealing with extreme levels of ability.

 

Cheesecake is not necessarily the work of the devil. However the better the cheesecake, the less of it you can eat, ironically.

 

A hip replacement implant looks a bit like a mushroom at the top.

 

The more foundation samples you put on your hand, the more confused and indecisive you get.

 

Leeds central train station has seventeen platforms to New St.'s twelve, yet still manages to constitute a pleasant experience.