Monday, October 28, 2013

The Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Big Storm

          The afternoon of Friday, October 25th, it became apparent that something was amiss.  Jogging along the ring road, trying to shake the irksome "hospital" feel out of my body by running, I assumed that the hair raising on my arm was from my earlier attempt to participate in a study of arterial pressure in order to earn 25 British Pounds.  I say attempt not because they didn't pay me (they did) but because I have no veins and no arteries.  At least I have no veins and no arteries that either of the practicing physicians (both well trained, and earning secondary research degrees at Cambridge) could locate within 45 minutes.  Eventually a needle was inserted, but my body managed to expel it (and bleed all over) within about 30 minutes of a 2.5 hour testing period.  Attempt two was completely unsuccessful.

         Because I rock that shit.  I've always known I had small and squirly veins.  Giving blood is a nightmare, and the childhood fears I had of dracula coming to eat me were totally unfounded.  He could have sucked for hours and would have come up dry because I just don't have blood.  Not like a person anyway. I strongly suspect that I may be a step back in evolutionary biology--like a grasshopper.  It's there, just sloshing around all over.  Not in veins and certainly not ordered.  Given my porcelain like pale skin you'd think that I'd be a prime target for the Red Cross.  But no.  I'm so troublesome that there's a note written on my redcross donation card.  "Be Careful Drawing."  I assume that the volunteer who penned it must not have liked my rendition of the T-Rex.  Drawn while I was eating a cookie and drinking milk after yet another failed donation in 2009.

         Blood banks and arterial pressure aside, Friday was windy and traffic was bad.  Looping back into the Porter's office, I ran into a series of printed signs.  "Bad Weather Sunday."  I ignored them and wandered off to my room for a nap.  Because that's what graduate students do.  We nap.  All the freaking time.  No social life, and few friends....what else are we supposed to do?  I've been learning to ignore the Porter's Lodge and their signs/emails/etc.  If I didn't the information there gleaned would limit pretty much everything I do to staying inside and studying.
        It's unsafe to walk at night.  In the dark.
       There WILL be a fire.
       Do NOT park here, you'll be towed.
       Bicycles are prone to accidents.
       Leave nothing in the forecourt, it WILL be stolen.
       Generally speaking the Porter's Lodge here at Newnham will keep students safe from EVERYTHING.  Including themselves.  A lot of it just doesn't really apply in the same way after about the age of 25.  I've been at a point where home ownership was on the radar as a thing that I might someday actually DO.  Whether or not to leave bacon alone on a stove for 2+ hours is not a question I ask.  The answer is a given; only if I want it to be delicious (no seriously, slow cook your bacon on super low heat....it's amazing).

       Saturday morning the signs had multiplied.  "Bad Weather Sunday PM: Do Not Go Out If Possible." It was also raining and I was bored, so I popped into the library to watch Louis C.K. clips and see what the BBC had to say about the weather.  There are apparently 4 levels of Weather Alerts here.  And we were headed into an Amber.  Level 1.  Indicated by newscasters in jackets standing int he wind, and an amber colored bar under the screen.  Some things are universal.  Hurricane force winds on the coasts of southern England and Wales, and gusts up to 80mph throughout southern England read the report.  And rain. We could get up to an inch in a day.

       A whole inch.

       I should point out that I am from Portland Oregon.  A WHOLE INCH of rain is like every Monday from about mid August through late June in Portland Oregon.  And that's just the last few years.  While we've been having this miserable drought.  Oregon gives the word "drought" a whole new meaning.  Wind I get.  Wind is scary and trees can fall down.  And there are trees here.  They seem to cap out at about 20-25 feet.  At least in town.  But they are trees, little trees, but treees that could fall down.  My umbrella might also be broken.  Which would be a problem since the only waterproof jacket I brought is rated to 30 below, and it's not cold enough to wear it yet.  There's also the question of the ocean.  I've learned, by being around it, that The Ocean does pretty terrifying things during storms that are otherwise quite mild.  A little bit of wind can turn a pretty beach into a thing of terror.  But Cambridge is nowhere near The Ocean.  At least for the U.K.....and let's be frank.  It's an island.  "Near The Ocean" is a relative term.  There is no Iowa here.  There is also no doppler radar here.  I had a conversation with a co-worker early this spring about how dopplar radar in Oregon is not "real."  AKA the South has it down when it comes to dopplar.  Something about tornado alley makes weather prediction important.  As things turn out, Oregon Doppler is to UK Doppler as Texas Doppler is to Oregon Doppler.

       We've been bracing for this storm since Friday.  The news seems to indicate that there are portions of the island that got hit pretty hard. Trees caused damage, a half a million people lost power at one point or another, but here in Cambridge, as far as I can tell, the worst of the damage was that inflicted by scotch tape peeling paint off of walls where signs were hung warning people not to go outside.

       Tomorrow I'm attending a lecture which the Men's Anti-Feminist League of Britain has promised will be protested.

       I honestly can't wait.




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