Daffnee

Since my hijinks in Ireland and London last weekend (in between the bombings, lucky me), my life has consisted of monitoring committees on behalf of my department. In practice, this consists of sitting in a big room with a pad of paper and listening to human rights people take potshots at the international finance people, drinking a lot of Coke to stay awake, and worrying about whether my laptop's ok. (It started making loud clunking noises when I got back on Monday, so a nice Irish guy took it away with the promise that he'd fix it.) Oftentimes people are rude. Oftentimes I feel compelled to hide my copy of The Economist so as not to be lynched.

Well, it's not as though no good has come of this experience; I now know what to say when people ask me what I did this summer:

1) I killed a lot of trees.
2) I became a conservative.

And all it took was working for the UN.

I've spent a good part the afternoon trying to find a place to stay on Sunday evening during my 12-hour layover in London on my way back from Galway. No fewer than 50% of the responses I've received so far have been apologies, followed by suggestions I find a pod at the airport.

A pod!

I'm going to London tomorrow, which is either going to be the greatest cheap trip ever (Swiss Air was having a seat sale), or a fantastic act of folly in the face of European terrorism. There's going to be a short pit stop in Shannon, Ireland, as well, though for barely time enough to get off the plane, buy an Irish magnet and take off again.

There's been a crush of new girls at the house this past week, which has been a little socially draining -- yes, people still tire me -- but not altogether unwelcome; the new roommate is a recent law grad from Nottingham, and has already taken it upon herself to get a bbq. Not too bad, though it's not German sarcasm.

My Tuesday evening highlight: I went swimming for the first time in two months. Objectively not a big deal, true. But...aside from getting yelled at for wearing shoes in the changeroom (they're very big on disinfecting feet there), it was the nicest public pool I've seen yet -- huge sunbathing chairs, minimal chlorine, beautiful water. A tad on the cold side, and I didn't get more than halfway through my usual set, but I felt pretty nice and gooey afterwards.

I also bought tuna. Yay.

Oh, and apparently one of my friends/fellow interns here has a famous brother. I personally wouldn't want my 5 minutes of fame to be on the heels of a bombing, but I suppose opportunities are a bit scarce in Leeds.

The best roommate I ever had moved out and went home to central Germany on Sunday, leaving me with my own room for a day (liberating) and a new British roommmate whose name I can't remember (curious). I guess I came to Geneva expecting the worst and got the best, and now that I've had the best I am setting myself up for disappointment. Classically counterproductive, no?

I spent Friday celebrating Canada Day, Saturday celebrating the end of my ex-roommate's time in Geneva, and Sunday traveling Switzerland (Geneva-Bern-Interlaken-Luzern). All I can say is 1) the Swiss have adorable villages, and 2) Swiss mountains have nothing on Canadian ones. The longer I stay away the more I love my country. Geographically, at least...

There's been a growing impatience lately, being dissatisfied with the current state of personal acquaintances and seeking out something newer and something different -- there's been a wave of new girls in the house this month, which has made things easier. I can't do the same over and over again. For me, conversation runs out.

The new roomie seems nice enough, though...she misses her boy. How -- understandable.