zen

A conversation between my mother and I.

Mama: How was your meeting with your supervisor this morning?
Me: It went well. It was the first time he seemed to like the stuff I did.
Mama: So was it just you and him at the meeting?
Me: I only have one supervisor.

At this point, I was getting somewhat annoyed. I have been working on the thesis for almost a year now. I must have mentioned my ever-so-patient supervisor in conversations on a weekly basis, though sometimes in a less saintly light.

Mama: Where is he from?
Me: Poland.

The whole department is made up of half of the Eastern Bloc. Must be something in the water that makes them superior in maths. I used to think that they were fed calculus since kindy.

Mama: Is he an attractive fellow? Polish men are usually very handsome. Remember your Polish friend with those piercing blue eyes?
Me: Oh god. Mum! He's in his fifties. Maybe even late fifties. Married. With daughers in high school.

The crazy thing is that we had the same conversation last week.

Serenity now. Serenity now. Focus on the fish in the pond. Fish will bring serenity and zen-like state.

My lecturer from Categorical Data Analysis suffers from acute Eastern European chic. His symptoms thus far have included double deniming, over large belt buckles, and various overtucked unsightly patterned short sleeved business shirts (which according to many metrosexual style bibles should be burnt unless you are still at school).

At last night's lecture, he upped the ante. He arrived, briefcase in tow, in a gold satin shirt. The state of the art ventilation system in the building left the shirt bellowing.

Just so one gets an idea of what he looked like:

Half an hour later, on further inspection -- I did not hear a word he said about logistic regression and CATMOD procedures in SAS -- I decided that he was a cross between Goldmember and a Ferrero Roche.

Why couldn't he just stick with tweed?

Unless I'm otherwise mistaken, and Rambo is really struggling to make ends meet, this chap is probably another actor trying to take the City of Angels by storm. Picture was taken early this year on holiday with my lovely parents. The trip itself is a whole other can of worms, open for discussion at a later stage.