A messy office Christmas party followed by seaside coffee and cake in Aberdeen (Rousse)

A mixture of colleagues from all stages of my career came to the staff Christmas party. These included: my old boss JH; the wife and eldest daughter of my old office-mate SM; current colleagues DB and LD; a tall, skinny, moustached new member of staff who seemed to take a fancy to me; and a couple from another university (CO and AM).

Everyone was so exhausted after the meal that they lay down on the floor to sleep (allegedly – the moustached man had other ideas). The next morning they headed off without a thought for the mess of the previous day.

Since FR and I were the last ones left, we felt it was our responsibility to tidy up. Then we changed our minds: we would leave an apologetic note for the cleaners instead.

We quickly gathered up our things, then set off for morning coffee and chocolate cake at a seaside café in Aberdeen.

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Spotted on campus (Rousse)

My return to campus was very confusing. I couldn’t even locate my office. In the end I gave up and met the PhD students in the photocopier room instead.

Then I ran into EH. She was curious about my scars and I was happy to show them to her. However, when I lifted my top I was distracted by an array of pea-sized, clear gel-filled, blisters that appeared to have colonised my torso. How did they get there?!!!

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PhD in Middle Eastern history: the mock viva experience (Rousse)

I was completely unqualified to serve as an examiner at this mock PhD viva. What on earth did I know about Middle Eastern history?

I had been persuaded to participate on the grounds that I could ask all the standard questions:

  • What was the overall aim of the research?
  • What inspired you to explore this topic?
  • What is your contribution to the field?

No one seemed to care that I would be completely unable to interpret the answers, nor continue the examination with follow-up questions.

At the viva itself everyone ignored me. They also paid no attention to the candidate. The whole meeting turned into a detailed debate about politics between the Director of Studies and second supervisor. This was no help to the student whatsoever.

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A Star Trek screening and a sick bed sanctuary (Rousse)

I was in no fit state to trek across the mountains after my operation, but TPR made me do this so that he could watch Star Trek films at the university cinema, snuggled up to a couple of women, who we used to know from our undergraduate days (CG and TS).

Worse for me, the minute that I was spotted on campus, HR staff made a beeline for me, assuming that I was back at work after my operation.

I headed out of the main building and hunted for the bus stop. Although I had no change on me, it would be worth paying extra to get back home to the sanctuary of my sick bed.

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Unusual lavatory layout for school parties in Stockton-on-Tees (Rousse)

Formerly known as Hector’s House, the third of the double garages (including the coach house) at the White House, Hartburn, Stockton-on-Tees, was converted into holiday accommodation for school parties.

On the ground floor there was a self-contained bedroom with en suite bathroom for the group leader(s), and a dormitory for children. Above there was a big common room, as well as the bathrooms.

I had seen communal showers before, but was rather surprised to discover the layout of the child-sized lavatories in open groups of three.

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A long soak (Rousse)

The Manor House bathroom overlooked the grounds towards the bay. Here JM and I took a long afternoon soak. Meanwhile TPR was elsewhere (most likely working on code).

When it was finally time to get out, a French student brought us freshly laundered blue and white striped towels, all fluffy and warm, straight out of the tumble dryer.

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Party limits (Rousse)

The parties hosted by my cousins were now so popular that they were obliged to fix a sign to the door to note that there was a limit of 100 guests.

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Rare red toothpaste

I chastised GC for his wasteful use of rare red toothpaste as he applied yet another 8-inch streak to his toothbrush.

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Lobbying the Scottish Government: in person, on a Sunday, face-to-face, in French (Rousse)

So impressed were we of RG’s athletic feat that we lobbied the Head of the Scottish Government – in person, on a Sunday, face-to-face, in French – to mark her achievement with a line of text carved in stone at the entrance of the Scottish Treasury building.

The only flaw in our approach was that we lost the covering letter that we had written for the official. However, my memory was so good that I was able to recite perfectly the reasons for our nomination.

I thought it completely unreasonable that CI and the other members of our team sent me to Coventry when they discovered that the covering letter had been in my i3 Conference bag during our audience. I had simply forgotten that it was there, and was certainly not hiding it. In any case, our bid had been successful.

What is more, the Head of the Scottish Government was also interested in our work with community councils, and this could lead to extended research opportunities for CI and the others. When they refused to allow me to join them in the restaurant for supper, they were putting their future employment prospects at risk.

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Edinburgh ‘tramp’ seeks New Town bail-out (Rousse)

I set off for home across town after my swim at the Edinburgh International Conference Centre with wet hair, and wearing nothing but a worn-out green towel.

I knew that I looked like a tramp, and at first I didn’t care. But then people started to stare at me so I hailed a taxi to take me home. Once installed on the back seat of the car it dawned on me that I did not have any cash to pay the driver, nor the keys to my flat.

I rerouted the driver through the New Town. VJ would have to bail me out yet again.

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