Thursday 12 June 2008

The Cleaner

Recently, I've been slightly embarrassed because I keep on bumping into the male cleaner at UEA. This obviously wouldn't be too bad if he hadn't opened the door to our office while I was taking my clothes off.

OK - that sounds slightly dodgy but let me explain! I often go swimming and so I thought I'd change in the office. Arthur was passing me my swimming costume and the cleaner came in when I was half-naked. Matters were made worse because it looked like Arthur was taking off my trunks rather than passing them to me... Neither did Arthur make things better by going bright red and turning his back... So I had to pass the bin - while still half-naked to the cleaner. To be fair I think the cleaner had the greater shock. As soon as he left we burst out laughing.

Anyway, I do wonder whether he's told all his cleaner friends that he saw a pair of poofs at it in the history department, or whether he's too uncomfortable to even mention it to anyone..

He is friendlier now.

Wednesday 28 May 2008

Kissing

During my travels this week I was waiting for my train to come into Norwich when a couple RIGHT in front of me started to eat each other’s faces off. This unexpected voyeuristic experience left me feeling annoyed, then jealous and finally shameful. You see my annoyance stemmed less from the blatant 'Public Display of Affection' (as Wikipedia labels it), and more at my cowardice for having never similarly snogged Arthur's (Chris also wanted a nom de plume) face off in public (well at least at a train-station) [other nauseous terms include gobble-gobble kissing or to suck face]. Generally, if Arthur and I are seeing each off, we'll give each other a big bear hug, yet there is I feel, still something awkward in our farewells - which to some extent is my own fault for giving a damn what others think.

There will be some who say 'I don't want to see anyone kissing - whether they're straight, gay or a transgenderqueer boydyke'. And certainly I agree that there should be a limit concerning the amount of bodily fluid one passes in public, but I do think that this kind of opinion misses the point. Clearly same-sex pashing/pulling will probably garner more attention and perhaps even aggression from passer-by’s than two heterosexuals kissing... Indeed, even two men/two women holding hands in a provincial town, is I think, a pretty brave act.

But also – why is a bit of kissing considered so offensive? I have a suspicion that those who find this SO objectionable are the same kind of prudes who would grumble about public breast-feeding or naturalist swimming groups.

Anyway, I'm determined in future to care less what people might think! Let the heavy petting begin!

Exeter Escapades

Now that I have given my paper at the HuSS conference I've got some time to report back on my wonderful week in Exeter.

The journey from Norwich to Plymouth (I was staying over at a friend's) was not too bad, although I did have to listen to a group of lads talking about how they were going to "Ball some Bitches" in Newquay...

Before I arrived in Exeter I had the opportunity to see three of my oldest and dearest friends (Betty, Sally and Dorothy). I've known these lovely ladies for at least ten years now and we've had many an amazing evening, normally involving copious quantities of alcohol... We spent the Sunday in Brixham, at a post-wedding reception and caught up with each other's gossip. I even learnt something new about Sally - apparently she was haunted at a young age by a ghost that made her room smell of scampi. Her mum used to tell her off because she thought Sally was eating loads of scampi and lemon nicnaks! Here is a petition to bring these crisps back...

Old friends are quite funny - because they are often such a contrast to the friends that I have made since I've been at University, who generally, have similar views/beliefs to myself. [In other words, they are more likely to agree with me - YEAH!]. I did feel sorry for the feminist movement in general after Sally and Dorothy both claimed at one point that (A) 'People shouldn't get any Child Benefits' [Because people would then stop having children apparently...](B) 'Those on the Dole should be forced into conscription' [It will give them direction!] and (C) 'Things were much better 30 years ago' [Do I have to comment here?]. Nevertheless, at least they love the gays! Well, I assume so anyway!

After Brixham I traveled to Exeter, and Rachel, who is a star - let me stay at hers for the evening (at very short notice). I also finally finished/dumbed down my paper... The next day the paper appeared to go well - The chair was slightly annoyed with me because I had completely ignored/deleted an email he had sent me asking for information about myself... However, after I presented, he said that he'd really enjoyed the paper - so presumably it was half-decent... Indeed, he even patted me on the arm when I next saw him (in a toilet...) That evening we preceded to the HUSS conference dinner, where I tried to get a few of my fellow History PhD students drunk. Apparently, I had already put one of my friends off white wine for life at a previous gathering! Most of you will realise that this is a grossly unfair accusation and that I would never intentionally try to get someone drunk. Anyway, I persuaded my friend to have some red wine instead - and she accepted!

All in all, the trip to Exeter has been very enjoyable. Tomorrow morning I'm off to the lovely town of Guildford!

Saturday 24 May 2008

Back to Exeter: My Child the Christian?

Today, I travel down for the Exeter Huss Conference, a conference I think some of you may know my opinion of... I do find it slightly amusing that I'm traveling down so soon after a bungled bomb attempt occurred in the centre of Exeter. To my mind it's not surprising that this recent attempt was made by some nutty convert – converts are normally much more scary than your run of the mill fundamentalist.

Indeed, Chris and I have decided that if we have children (surrogate mothers apply below) we’re going to bring them up as Christians, take them to church each week and send them to a faith school. That way they can do the normal thing and reject it when they’re older … Otherwise, you might have a child who feels you’ve given them no spiritual outlet, and then they decide to become an Evangelical Christian … (Wouldn’t that be a nightmare – although I guess it would be the ultimate teenage rebellion if you were brought up by two men…)

On a serious note, I don’t think I’d mind if one of my children did become a Christian, but you’d hope they pick a denomination that isn’t too enthusiastic or preachy…

Catholicism does have the longest pedigree, and it’s tempting because you can make your children feel guilty for life … Personally however, I think I prefer Anglo-Catholicism because it has the best of both worlds – the liturgical element (the bells/smells), which is drawn from Catholicism, and the wishy-washy liberal element drawn from Anglicanism.

On a side issue, if you’re gay and want to get laid just join a theological college - so many high Anglican gays – sometimes I’m amazed when I meet a straight male Anglican! Normally they’re married off pretty early I think … Another important point is that you still get good wine at high Anglican churches – I really do feel sorry for Methodists who have to drink fruit juice …

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been to a few Evangelical churches and I love a ‘Shine Jesus Shine’ like the next man but I do think that if you were to use an analogy such churches would equal a bottle of Lambrusco/Blue Nun (cheap, sweet and easy to get drunk on, but with very little depth). Normally, thank God, most people’s tastes mature as they get older.

Tuesday 20 May 2008

Matt's Guacamole

I made some Guacamole today and I have to say it was very good (even if I do say so myself) so thought I'd share the recipe.

Ingredients:

2 Avocados
1 Red Chili (seeds and pith removed)
2-3 Vine-Tomatoes
1/2 a small Red Onion
1 clove of Garlic sliced (I used Green Garlic, but would probably use 1/2 a clove of regular Garlic)
A handful of chopped Coriander
A squeeze of Lemon
Salt (Malden Salt if you can) and Freshly Milled Black Pepper

Instructions:

Finely chop the Chili, Tomatoes, Red Onion and Garlic and place in a mixing bowl. Scoop out the Avocados’ flesh, mash in a bowl, and then mix with the rest of the ingredients. Throw in the Coriander, season liberally with Salt and Pepper and add Lemon juice to taste. Serve with Pittas or Tortilla Chips.

Sunday 18 May 2008

Holiday Inn: A Complaint...

[Warning: Contains Adult Themes…]

So after reminiscing about my recent trip to Kalamazoo I realised that there was still one thing that I hadn't blogged about. Nevertheless, there were valid reasons for this omission.

Two reasons actually:

(1) People might think I'm a pervert...
(2) People might think I'm a big fat liar...

However, mulling this over for at least a week now, I feel that if I let this go I'm only allowing a grave injustice to continue. What's more, is my "reputation" really that important when we're talking about equality and fairness for all?

Here's my story... After returning to the Holiday Inn last week I decided that my entire afternoon would be dedicated to slobbery. But first I had to decide on a film to watch... There were almost 70 movies to choose from in the hotel list, ranging from your Oscar nominated films [No Country for Old Men, There Will Be Blood etc] to a number of films starring Jessica Alba, which I think you'll agree is never a good sign.

For instance, one [Awake] has the blurb: "The story focuses on a man who suffers "anesthetic awareness" and finds himself awake and aware, but paralyzed, during heart surgery. His mother must wrestle with her own demons as a drama unfolds around them, while trying to unfold the story hidden behind her son's young wife"... Hmm …

Nevertheless, I didn't want to prejudge these offerings, so the next hour or so was spent watching each and every preview... [No Awake does not look good... neither does Alba's The Eye... in which she plays a blind woman who realises her recently transplanted eyes are making her see EVIL premonitions...] Anyway, I didn't intend this to be an Alba hate-fest and I’d like to make clear that I always loved her early work - so moving swiftly on...

After making an initial selection, I looked on the menu to see if there were any other film channels - there was only the Adult Channel... Now I want to make clear that I was not interested in perusing porn at this precise moment, (I much prefer a good book) but I was intrigued as to what Holiday Inn's selection of adult films were...

Funny enough, unlike the other films, these movies did not have previews. Anyway, I noticed after more and more searching, that there was not one Gay porn movie... not one...! Every other sexuality was catered for... Straight men obviously had the biggest choice, with almost all forms of heterosexual depravity to choose from. Lesbians not only had '100% Lesbian Sex', 'Woman on Woman Action', BUT they also had 'Real Dykes'. (Ok, I realise that these films were probably not produced with the assumption that lesbians would watch them but that's not the point...). Straight Women did I admit have very meagre pickings - with a few channels like 'Genuine Couples' or 'Married Love' ... But there was no 'Broke Guys Go Gay' or 'Horny College Jocks' or ‘The Penetrator’ (or whatever these kinds of films are called…)

Anyway, I think you'll agree that this is cause for complaint... As I've said before, and, I'd like to make this very clear - I wasn't looking for porn. But, it's certainly nice to have that option... I now feel I should write an email to Holiday Inn setting out why I think there should be, at the very least, one gay porn flick in their adult movie list. I will report back when and if I receive a reply…

"Liberals" and Soft Homophobia: Part 1

[Warning: This post is not satirical, and is more of a rant (although this might in itself cause some amusement) and has a particularly preachy quality to it]

A recent conversation with a friend about the relationship between political ideology and homophobia has got me thinking about the kind of response, as a student, I've had from friends/acquaintances about my sexuality. Because of the kind of people I interact with (generally all very lovely), I have had little cause to moan/worry about homophobia; indeed, the only form of abuse I’ve ever had in Exeter happened to take the form of a racist verbal incident. To a certain degree, a University setting, and particularly a postgraduate environment, has probably cushioned me from most forms of prejudice or discrimination. (Although this might be different if I was a science student/had a religious faith....)

Nevertheless, I have noticed that a number of people whom I have come into contact with, may consider themselves liberal, yet still have a bit of a problem … The kind of opinions they hold, reflect, to some degree, a much more pernicious (and irritating) kind of homophobia, because these "liberals" often assume that we now live in a post-homophobic (and post-sexist) society, where gays and lesbians always live blissfully, universally accepted by everyone. Indeed, they don’t seem to appreciate that their own experiences of gay people, of whom, in a university context, will generally be of the white and middle-class variety, does not reflect the entirety of LGBT experience- many gay people, because of a number of variables: class, age, gender, race or religion, may have far worse problems/experiences - not just with “coming out” in the first place (with all the problems this entails), but also finding a safe environment - both in their own communities and within the workplace …

Such liberals (or those that profess to be liberals) are a particularly unreflective kind of liberal, a liberal formed from their environment and immediate group of friends. The kind of person, who, in twenty years, after settling down in the suburbs, will begin reading the Daily Mail, because ‘society has now changed so much … ’ Even though such people will think of sexuality as irrelevant "why would I care who so and so sleeps with" they will still come out with statements that demonstrate a high level of ignorance, and a disturbingly low degree of empathy...


1/. "I don't go around saying I'm straight all the time"...

This is a statement I've come across on a number of occasions. Not only is it a pretty stupid statement in itself, it is also entirely false. People talk about (or broadcast) their sexuality all the time – although they don't always know it... For example, in most introductions or first meetings, in a variety of contexts, people will often mention their relationship status, and talk about their wife/husband/boyfriend/girlfriend, or the fact they have children.

This is an entirely normal component of social greeting, yet when a heterosexual man or woman says they have a wife/husband they are not declaring 'I am straight'. Nevertheless, as a gay man each time I mention my partner, I'm effectively "coming out" to someone new, and, what is more, I have to consider carefully what sort of reaction I might receive. Of course, I don't have to mention Chris by name, but to some extent the term 'partner' is in itself code for gay partner...

Most people of course, are unlikely to go from polite to rude in 60 seconds... Indeed, generally people will normally try to show that they are not bothered at all - the initial mental 'OH' (indeed generally a positive 'OH'), will be hidden quickly under a polite and restraint 'So what does he do?'

Saturday 17 May 2008

Vegan Dinner Party

Chris and I have been meaning to invite our Vegan friends (Sharon and Clive) over for dinner for at least a year now... I should admit that we haven't necessarily made this a number 1 priority, but I have at least looked on a number of vegan websites (including the aptly titled Vegan Porn – for titillating tofu eaters...) and ummed and aghed about the possible delights we could serve.

Often Chris and I will have seen a Vegetarian dish in one of our many recipe books and exclaimed: 'Ooh the Goat's Cheese and Leek Quiche looks good' 'What about the Melanzane alla Parmigiana', without realising at first that both have cheese and therefore are a no no... You see, I imagine that 50% (or more) of my diet is Vegetarian but when I say Vegetarian I always mean CHEESE CHEESE CHEESE... I don't think I could live without Brie, Stilton, Gruyere, Boursin, Camembert, Feta, Mozzarella, Parmesan and the occasional laughing cow slice - you mock but there is always a time and a place for such delights. Anyway, as I have said it was a bit of a challenge (for Vegan virgins at least) to come up with an entirely non-dairy, tasty, dinner party standard - 3-course meal.

First, we thought – how about a curry? Our reasoning – that anything with enough spices thrown at it can taste good. However, we thought that this would be a bit of a cop-out... Instead, we decided on a Mediterranean theme - so now we're just chucking olive oil and garlic at the food. Because of the amount of vegetables and fruit we needed, we first thought about getting everything at the Norwich market - which has a number of locally produced/organic/reared with love veg stands, which I'd certainly recommend. Nevertheless, basically because of laziness we opted for Home Delivery from Waitrose - We're boycotting Tesco's at the moment so unfortunately we HAD to choose Waitrose... In the end this was a fortuitous decision as the driver dropped off an extra bag of food so we had free mangos, avocados and a baguette. I'd like to make clear that we did ring Waitrose and tell them about the extra bag - consequently not only did we feel great about the extra bag, we also felt better knowing we were good people.

The evening was very enjoyable - wine flowed aplenty and Chris and I decided that vegan food is pretty good after-all, especially with lots of garlic, herbs, bread and tomatoes! Could we ever go vegan? Not if it meant giving up the cheese...

The Menu (with thanks to Rick Stein)

Starter:
Two Bruschettas: Tomato and Basil, and Broad Bean and Mint

Main Course:

Oven-Baked Summer Vegetables with Dill
Tomato, Roasted Red Pepper and Onion Salad with Preserved Lemon
Tabbouleh (Parsley, Mint, Bulgar Wheat and Tomato Salad)
Foccaccia (with Rosemary and Rock Salt)

Dessert:

Poached Pears in Red Wine

P.S If anyone is interested in any of the recipes let me know and I’ll send them to you. I’d like to make clear that unlike the cooks at Vegan Porn I didn’t assemble and prepare this while naked.

Thursday 15 May 2008

Trip to America: Conference Awards...

I thought I'd have an awards ceremony (purely subjective of course) based on the papers that were at the Congress.



The Why is this at a Medieval Conference Award:

(Tie) Kristine Larsen 'Teaching Tokien in Science Classes' and George Ruckman's 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer on Xbox'. Runner up: Florence Marsal's 'The Ambiguous Legacy of Merlin in the Harry Potter Book and Film series'.

This isn't a paper - It's stalking:

Laurence S.Creider's 'The Web Presence of Kalamazoo Participants'...[This guy isn't going to be a laugh in real life is he...]

Worst Session Title:

"Will the "Reel" Beowulf Please Stand Up? Representations of the Beowulf Story on Electronic Multimedia" [Basically, "Beowulf on Wikipedia"]

Queerest Paper:
Tison Pugh's 'From Boys to Men to Hermaphrodites to Eunuchs: Queer Formations of Romance Masculinity and the Hagiographic Death Drive in Amis and Amiloun'. Runner up: Madeline H.Caviness's 'Queering the Code: Jesus and Mary or Jesus and John?'

Best/Worst use of Brackets in a Paper Title: Angela Sucich's 'Becoming m(O)thers, Becoming (hu)mans Engendering Hybrids and Monsters in Two Medieval Romances'.

Best institution: Kirstie Buckland -The Knitting History Forum.

Trip to America Day 7: Holiday Inn and Conversations with Bob...

Today, I left my dorm rooms. I felt sad - I was leaving the metal casket, the exposed toilet, the tan coloured blanket and moving to the land of pillows (Holiday Inn). I decided that at the hotel I would spend the day watching terrible movies with the air conditioning on high (perhaps I'll adopt two monkeys...). After the second movie - a truly dire Resident Evil sequel, I decided to see what the bar was like.

Sitting at the bar - (that way I could be nearer to the Beer) I stared hypnotized at a huge TV screen as commentators talked about whether the Colts etc were ready for their game or something... A guy sat down next to me and I thought hell I'll try and initiate a conversation with him. It was however too early - he simply grunted and spoke in monosyllabic utterances at first.

However, after he'd finished the first drink, he left for the toilet and coming back offered me some popcorn. I knew that I was now an accepted fellow guy. He also began to open up as he drunk more (he had a whisky with each beer). He was called Bob; he had worked in the Special Forces; in his words 'I blew things up'. He was an interventionist at heart 'We should invade Iran for the Oil, heck why not invade Brazil'... He had two sons; Jake (11) and Max (3) - and a wife: 'She does a great job with the kids, what would we do without women hey' - and lived on Rhode Island (NY) 'Too many taxes - and we get nothing for it'. Although, we did not have much in common I started to like Bob - he had a lot of charisma and as we talked I learnt more about his family.

Bob was having problems with his eldest son Jake. While Max could shoot a ball at 30mph at 3 (probably more than I can now...), and was an active go-getter who didn't take any shit 'He punched a boy at his nursery, but I said to the principal, what did the other boy do? Try and take his toy?’ 'He's gonna be like me' Bob said.

Jake on the other hand was a bit of a disappointment; he was a computer geek and stayed up in his room playing war games all day... I tried to make Bob feel better by saying 'Well at least they're WAR games' - but Bob was having none of it 'He doesn't know what it's like to be in War - people can die...’ We drank some more. I learned that Bob had lived in China for three years 'We only had to pay our assistant $10 a week!’ and that he had quite a few hobbies - he still blew up tree trunks in his backyard and in the basement he practiced shooting.

I don't want to give the wrong impression - Bob did sound like an attentive father - taking his kids out to Renaissance fairs, to baseball games and he taught them how to make computers. But we kept returning to Jake 'He used to be good at baseball but his feet are too big now' and 'He has a lot of emotions, more than I do'. As a geek myself, I tried to support Jake and told Bob that sometimes kids just aren't like their parents - Bob agreed... However, Jake wasn't the kind of geek I had been as a young'un. 'He wants to be a sniper when he's older, but I keep telling him that it's different from a computer game, you don't get to reboot', Bob said. I didn't really know how to respond, but somewhere in my brain I thought the following was good advice. 'Well perhaps you should show him a dead body...' Bob eyes glowed, and in the next few minutes he kept thanking me for my "Great idea"... As he said, 'I have a few friends in the Police Force, I can show him what happens to someone's head when a shotgun has a go at it'... He REALLY LIKED my idea... Anyway, I left after a few more drinks feeling a little guilty that I had contributed to the loss of innocence in a young boy... Let's hope Bob forgot that part of the conversation...

Trip to America Day 6: The Paper...

[I should state beforehand that I'm writing this note after drinking 3 pints at a bar so I apologise now for anything I say that might be offensive...]

Today I had to wake up at 6am because my paper was at 8.30. Well I didn't have to - but I felt I should at least have a read through, seeing as this was the last chance to save face. I got to the room ridiculously early, and discovered I was the first person there - this was what I wanted because I had jeans and trainers on, so needed to hide behind the desk at the front of the room so people would only see the dashing jacket and shirt that I was wearing.

The second speaker came in 5 minutes later. Pat something... Anyway this Pat woman had about 5 months previously facebooked me asking me if I was looking forward to Kalamazoo. I said that I was, and that it would be the first time I'd been to America, but that I had been to Leeds before (the English equivalent). I kind of thought it was odd that she had messaged me in the first place and her messages were also not particularly warm - in one of her messages she said something like 'you're in for a huge surprise'... OK....

Anyway, I soon found out why she was a little cold. She introduced herself and said 'So I haven't seen you around much - I assume you've been at the bar'... I replied 'Um no, (I wish!) I've gone a bit handout crazy the last couple of days'... 'Oh' she replied, 'I just assumed because all the photos on facebook show you partying with girls' 'You've got a lot of girls as friends don't you' and 'You're a bit of a ladies man aren't you - all the girls seem to love you?...' How WRONG could she be (Well not about me partying or the girls loving me but you know what I mean...). Anyway, I found this quite amusing/scary and soon realised that she had already put me down as some scandalous macho guy that fooled around with women. Basically, she was the kind of feminist that gives good feminists (including myself! Oh yes!) a bad name. Her paper gave it all away (I apologise to those who have no idea what the following will mean but just agree that she's [as Maddy would say] a bint...). Basically, she said that Charlemagne was nice to monks but was really mean to nuns, forcing them to stay resident at their nunneries - but in a twist, - some nuns didn't stand up for this and actually still carried on kicking butt, writing shit and being nuns....

Anyway, after we all gave our papers I got some good questions, although they seemed fascinated with this one point about my author being a physician and checking women's urine. American medievalists seem to be fascinated by waste products... But the convener, this eminent medieval historian called Felice Lifshitz said to Pat - 'Umm I have some advice for you' - which I think you'll agree is never a good line... She then proceeded to say that basically just because you're resident somewhere doesn't mean that you're forced to stay there - e.g. Pat you're paper sucked. Oh - poor Pat... NO - you didn't meet her!

After my paper I was exhausted and decided to get some sleep. I slept soundly for the next 6 hours (even with the brown blanket)... When I woke up I went to meet a friend for dinner, this lovely Irish archeologist who I had previously met in Wales at a conference. Earlier in the week there had been a slightly awkward moment because she had said 'Let's have some crack!', to which I didn't really know how to reply... Ummm and caving into peer pressure 'Ok...'. Until I found out that crack in Irish means fun... (There was a small part of me that was slightly disappointed)...

Anyhow, my friend had invited a Scottish professor to dinner as well and we all grabbed a taxi to a French restaurant. The Scottish professor seemed nice - we were getting along fine and then he said how he used to live in Brighton. I told him that I'd heard it was a great place and that I'd love to visit sometime (I didn't say that it was because it's a huge gay Mecca and I loved Sugar Rush). He replied 'Nah I wouldn't - it's got a bit weird now...' Surprisingly, after this one slip, conversation was still good, although because I was with an Irish woman and a Scottish man I had to put up with a good 30 minutes of nationalism. 'Independent Scotland this...' Independent Cork that...' Hey I thought I'd join in and said there should be a 'Free Kurdistan to which they both agreed! I'm sorry, probably because I'm English (isn't it ironic....) I think nationalism of all forms is a little weird... The French restaurant was great - I had a steak with prawns, cornbread, asparagus and a posh tomato salsa (Yum). I decided that the Scottish guy was lovely and just misunderstood - particularly after he bought me dinner! We had drunk a good few bottles of red wine so I had no problem sleeping when I got back... A great finish to a good conference. And, even better I had the pillow menu at the Holiday Inn to look forward to the next day.

Trip to America Day 4-5: The Days of Pain...

Day 4:
I woke up refreshed this morning - I seem to be getting used to my surroundings and even started singing a tune when I entered the metal casket for a wash.

For breakfast I decided to get some Special K, because I thought that out of my two breakfasts today, one should at least be healthy. Getting the cereal is however more tricky. Because they probably buy them in bulk, all the cereal is stored in these huge glass containers - you press a lever and hey presto. That is how it is supposed to work anyhow. Having psyched myself up, I placed my bowl underneath the opening and pushed the lever – immediately an avalanche of cereal emptied onto my bowl. My reactions aren't the quickest (as many will know) and for a couple of seconds the Special K continues to spew out. At this point most of it was hitting the floor... I looked around - except for a highly skittish woman no-one had seen me. I leveled off my bowl and walked away quickly - I didn't do nuthing or see nuthing...

Breakfast is scrambled egg (which somehow manages to clump less than its English cousin); bacon of the crispiest streakiest kind ( this probably doesn't even come from a pig - but it's still good); and little potatoes (which are a nice change from hash browns). Yesterday I made the mistake of getting a portion of white butter - but today I searched out for the yellow. White butter looks like lard and lard on toast (from the counter not from the industrial toaster...) isn't my favourite of dishes.

Having finished breakfast I went to grab a coffee from a cafe that's above the dorm room - I'd like to make clear that this is nothing to do with the fact the guy serving coffee is fit/attractive... (I can look but not touch!) Anyway, although he's obviously straight it's great fun in America because anyone serving you will always catch your eye and hold it - so I can imagine that in some small way we were flirting in those moments of 'Enjoy your coffee sir' and 'Have a great day sir'! Some times Americans will take it to the extreme - one waitress at a restaurant was incredibly happy serving us (if someone was this happy in England they'd have manic depression) and ended the evening with 'Have a good life sir'... 'You too'...)

I apologize for my extensive rants about American toilets but here goes again... So I realise that flying to Kalamazoo and back to give a 20 minute paper on an obscure medieval topic may not be the best use of my carbon footprint. I am in other words already racked with spasms of guilt. But, what makes this worse is that every time you go to the toilet here you use a small lake of water- (for some reason there is about 4 times as much more water in the bowl than in England, which also means that you're closer...one slip and you have a wet hand...). Anyway, I'm going to have to do something dramatic to offset all this waste - I was thinking of adopting a monkey and ordering a monthly veg box (organic of course) when I get back.

After coffee, the day went well - papers merge into one as I walk from a session on voluntary flagellation, saints' relics in Brittany, and the great Bede. I notice today that there are two sub-species of medievalists that I failed to address in my last post. The first is really an amalgamation of the two classes - that is, the man in a suit with a pony-tail. I think most of you will agree that this is just wrong... Don't try and escape the classification! The other species is the art-historian, who because she/he is clearly a failed artist has to show the world they do have some kind of artistic merit - this generally involves them (a) dying their hair red (b) having zebra-style highlights or (c) having a short choppy hairstyles that just radiates cool (or all of the above).

After the sessions had finished for the day, I went for dinner. There is just an hour for dinner so most people try and go early to avoid the rush. After you hand your dinner ticket to the clearly bored attendant, you have one of two lanes which you can choose to join - but once you've made that decision there is no going back... Anyway, I picked the left one... DOH! For some reason we had the two thickest servers known to existence. Whereas the servers on the right were belting them out and working simultaneously, on our line both servers would do one plate - the first serving the meat, the second the vegetables etc. Even when someone didn't want any sides, the second server would just wait, chewing gum and looking off into the distance...

Day 5:

Today is my main day of pain, as the paper still needs some work and I feel that to give a semblance of structure/sense/historical accuracy I need a good handout - in fact I decide on two handouts in the end: That way if I they get bored at least they have some paper to doodle on. The reason why the paper is still not satisfactory in my mind is because after 3 years of the PhD I have become an expert on knowing how much (really I should say how little) I need to do for an average-I-won't-be-laughed-off-my seat/they-will-take-pity-on me paper... So today is spent finishing the handouts and conclusion. I do have one moment of panic when my computer cable breaks mid-way but thanks to a friend (the amazing Fumiko) I'm able to continue and get the work finished by about 4pm. I have a read through and although I get slightly bored mid-way I feel that it is satisfactory to good. Tonight is the Kalamazoo dance, but because my paper is at 8.30am in the morning and because I've been working most of the day I'm shattered and decide that I should try and be sober for the talk (Consequently, at another conference this summer I plan on being plastered throughout)

Trip to America Day 3: The Kalamazoo Conference

Well I did get some sleep in my bunker last night. I woke up around 7am, but waited for the person next door to take his shower etc, before I also entered the metal casket to wash.

I decided to grab some breakfast - which is served between 7-8.30. (One Irish lady that I met later said this was just too early for "the Irish") Well, although not Irish (Although, my Mum's relatives are Catholic so kind of Irish) I have to agree. I grabbed everything I wanted for breakfast, except for some toast as I was too scared to use the industrial sized toaster, and sat down to do some people-watching before the first session.

I should make clear at this point that postgraduates and young scholars of the medieval persuasion can be broadly situated/stereotyped into two categories:

1/. The clean shaven, beige/woody coloured suited, earnest young scholar, who attempts to network with everyone. Not everyone of the first class is a twat.

2/. The other species is the slightly alternative, long haired (both men and women - although men might have a pony-tail), excessive jewellery wearing (particularly rings or bangles) eccentric/introvert who attempts to stick out/hide.

It is important to note that one's fashion statement does not necessarily suggest a preference for a particular type of methodology. A person in a suit can still have a paper with the word 'hybridity' or 'alterity' in the title, just as a Goth, for instance, could give a mind-numbing paper on charters/wills. No offence charter lovers.

At present, I have still to decide which path to choose.

Each has their advantages: The first = fewer friends, and therefore more time to work. The second = knowing deep down that you can be cool and quirky at the same time as being a medievalist.

Ultimately, of course, as a gay I circumvent these tawdry classifications...

Oh one slightly embarrassing encounter - yes at breakfast - this is me... I bumped into a professor [I will mention no names] I had met a previous conference who is eminent in my field. We talked about our respective plane flights and when I said I still had a bit of jet lag he/she said that later on in the day he/she would give me Melatonin. For some reason, I just blurted out 'Thanks - yes you can be my pusher....' Oh dear.

Anyway, after breakfast, it was time to go to the first session. I was going to say 'it was time to choose' but as a procrastinator of the finest calibre I had obviously already decided about three months ago which sessions I was attending. Indeed, the catalogue booklet had already brought me much amusement. I particularly liked the gratuitous use of acronyms. (I don't get out much...)

The best ones are those which sound kind of similar:
SSBMA [Society for the Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages]
and
SSHMA [Society for the Study of the Homosexual in the Middle Ages]

Not that I'm saying that these are mutually exclusive of course, but you would feel sorry for the Catholic lady who thought she was going to hear a paper on the Apostles and got 'Queering the Da Vinci Code' instead. P.S I'm not making that last one up...

The first session I went to cheered me up, mainly because three out of four of the speakers didn't have a handout... Those lazy ....! And one speaker's paper was basically a chronology of events. His conclusion: That if he knew Icelandic he might be able to say more...

After the first session it was already time for lunch. In Kalamazoo the papers revolve around the food - in contrast, at the medieval conference in Leeds it revolves around the booze - says a lot about our respective cultures... One of the great things about lunch in America is that even if you ask for a sandwich, that sandwich will be a huge mother of a sandwich. The girl serving me today did however look slightly perturbed when I asked for just a ham and salad sandwich:

'You don't want any cheese with that?' she asked
'No cheese at all?' she repeated astonished.

Of course a ham and salad sandwich in England would not be worth eating...

At cafeteria's on English campuses, staff would count out the two slices of ham that you're allowed, and carrot would count as salad - CARROT IS NOT A SALAD! Indeed, at UEA (University of East Anglia) recently, Chris had to open three "chicken mayonnaise" baps before he found any chicken. Cheap Bastards...

Having worked myself up to a rage I’m going to go for a drink (alcohol always helps). I still need to finish this damn handout - but it can wait…

Trip to America Day 2: The Dorms...

Because I can't be bothered to finish off my paper tonight I thought I'd continue with my account of Kalamazoo. I woke up refreshed this morning satisfied that I utilised each of my eight pillows to great effect.

After getting dressed I made my way downstairs and after asking about breakfast to another friendly guy at the desk, managed to wangle a free complimentary breakfast.

At breakfast I realised that because I've never been to America I'm aware of all the wondrous differences with England. Except, stepping back a little bit - there isn't really much difference - I'm just using that as an excuse for my own stupidity. Case in point, at breakfast a lovely waitress came up to ask me if I wanted the breakfast buffet, this question threw me- what could she mean? I said yes without much thought and stayed in my seat - 'The buffet is just over here' sir. Oh it's self service... DUH - because obviously in England there is no such thing... Later in the day, at a cafeteria I tried to rationalise my trouble with the coffee machine as being because I was in America - before realising that I would have probably spilled the coffee everywhere in England too.

Getting to Western Michigan University was easy, as the hotel had booked a shuttle cab (owned by the hotel) to take me there. The driver was called Frank and had before this job worked in a pie-filling factory for 26 years (earning 44,000$) as a pie taster! Apparently, the factory had gone bust because people weren't willing to buy the pie case and the filling and then heat it up, when they could go to Wal-Mart and just buy a pie. A sad story - Remember this people when you buy a six pack of Mr Kipling!

Having left Frank and then registered I made my way to my dorm room. This is situated at the bottom of a wide sprawling complex of flats. If I go down the corridor and turn right you find a series of boiler rooms/laundry rooms which look like something out of a horror film where the blond girl gets it. Inside my room, which has a chain lock, it smells musty - two beds are situated parallel, a chest of drawers separates them. My view - a Tornado shelter. Let's just say that I don't have eight pillows for the next couple of nights. There is no duvet, just one of those tan/light brown coloured blankets that are usually seen in the aftermath of a flood/hurricane.

Next to the bedroom and entered by another door is a weird/creepy ensuite. (Thankfully with another chain lock) This has a shower and a toilet and appears to be connected to another room. Privacy appears to be of little interest - There is a toilet next to the other person's door - half a door has been hinged onto the wall but not as a door, as a screen - a partial screen... Anyone entering from the other room instantly sees you on the toilet... Making trips to the loo slightly daunting...

Anyway, am looking forward to the papers tomorrow – but am sad that I won’t be able to make the session ‘Excrement in the Middle Ages’.

Trip to America Day 1: The Journey

I began the day by "Waking up" in my Yotel room exhausted. I thought I'd get to the check-in early so decided to get out of my small cabin (the place isn't that bad - as long as you don't suffer from claustrophobia!) immediately and make my way to the north terminal. I am at this point barely conscious but make my way to the boarding counter and attempt to not look like a terrorist. I've actually shaved today (and got my hair cut on bank holiday) so that no-one will suspect anything... Anyway, I travel through security, slightly irked that the Chinese woman in front of me looks more suspicious than me. Why can't I be patted down hey!?

Chris has told me that on his 8 hour flight to America (BA) he was hardly served any food or drink so I prepare for starvation by grabbing one of those triple-decker sandwiches that somehow manages to have about half your daily calorie intake in them.

I soon learn however once boarding the plane that this was a mistake. Perhaps because I'm on Delta (an American airline) they realise their customers are going to have bigger appetites. Or perhaps they just care more... Anyway for the next 8 hours we are force fed. Beginning with the complimentary peanuts, a roasted vegetable pasta dish which comes with bread, cheese and crackers, a small salad and an oatmeal cookie - this is followed by a mid-flight ice cream and an hour before we land we are given pizza and a shortbread. OK - I could have said no to any of these things - but the airhostesses are so smiley and the food is free (Plymothian background taking over) that everyone, myself included accepts the food - except for a very skinny girl who pretends to be asleep whenever the food comes around...

The air hostesses are very keen. Two of them literally stalked the aisles with free complimentary water. In fact, if I had wanted to I'm sure I could have had about 20 complimentary (non alcoholic) drinks... I tried to throw a little spanner in the works by asking for a coffee when one came around with just water but this seemed to please her even more. There was a rather amusing moment when I asked one air hostess for a serviette (I'm not even sure why I used this term). She just gave me a completely blank look and then said (rather loudly) - 'I'm sorry sir, do you mean napkin - we don't speak French here'

The trip itself was fine. I filled in the visa waiver after making sure I had ticked 'no' to the questions - Are you (or have you ever been) a terrorist? Are you (or have you ever been) a spy? I liked the clauses they put in just to make sure they got you! I dosed but had trouble sleeping because I had sat behind a rather irritating old woman who managed to push back her chair as humanly possible GRR!

After 8 hours (in which 3 REALLY BAD films had played -The Bucket List, 27 Dresses, Treasure Hunt 2/3/4 - oh Helen Mirren what were you thinking) we arrived at Cincinnati! Woohoo! From above, this city looked like suburbia heaven and what really surprised me was the amount of trees (presumably real ones) and greenery which surrounded the suburbs.

I now waited for two hours until my connection. Again rather annoyingly I passed immigration without any problems - I clearly just do not look Kurdish enough... While waiting I visited the airport 'restrooms' or toilets as the uncivilised call them. I really do not understand why there are so many gaps in these toilets - Is it simply to stop cottaging/gay love!? Not only are there half-inch wide gaps on either side of the front door but you could also squeeze under the toilet next to you. Not that I did this of course... I guess this gives a rather communal feel but I prefer the enclosed British toilets where you can't eye up the hairy leg next to you...

Finally, my plane for Kalamazoo came. Our airhostess for this plane was called Cindy - she was very lovely - but she was a BIG lady and had some trouble walking through the aisle. We landed and I could appreciate Kalamazoo in all its glory as I waited for my shuttle outside arrivals. Everytime a car passed I thought it was my shuttle but it just happened to be an American car... While I was waiting I found it amusing that one of my prejudices was confirmed - a sheriff Kalamazoo county car/van (with no-one in it) had just been left to wait with its engine on...

I arrived at Holiday Inn West around 6pm to be greeted by the friendliest receptionist I've ever met. This throws your gaydar a little - isn't it also funny that being friendly is a sign of homosexuality. Friendliness of any sort always throws me- and we British must come across as such miserable people. Anyway, I was also slightly confused by the question ‘How many keys do you need?' and was tempted to say 6 but chickened out and asked for 1.

Perhaps I was at the best Holiday Inn ever but the room was about the equivalent of a three or four star hotel in England. I had two double beds with a flat screen TV and ensuite (with 11 assorted white towels). I was also confronted by a pillow menu when I arrived and it meant during the night I could go from hard pillow to soft pillow depending on my mood... The only bugbear was it had fake curtains which don't close - this annoys me but because I was completely shattered I fell into a deep deep sleep.
More tomorrow where I will give my initial impressions of the Zoo conference...