South Park Self

I resolve to become the world's greatest archduke

Can't talk, orienting. Although, in fact, most of my orientation duties are in the morning, leaving me the afternoon to catch up on all the registration and curriculum advice duties. Yay. I am taking ten minutes out to blog in a spirit of defiance.

Today has started with one defunct sound system in the main venue (NSLT, huge, my voice is croaked from projecting without amplification), one batch of venues discovered to be under construction, another batch of venues discovered not to have been booked when they should have been (not, may I add, by me), and a sharp downpour of rain at precisely the moment when we needed to shepherd 400 students across campus to different venues. Score points for cosmic cussedness, Cape Town weather, and entropy. We have dealt with all these crises with becoming grace, and are currently operating ruthlessly on time. *waves rude finger in direction of cosmic wossnames*

Upsides: students get cute, spiky hair when wet. Like puppies. Also several very good t-shirts today, the one which sticks in my mind reading "With great moustaches come great power". (Wearer, naturally, clean-shaven). And another one simply stating "BLACK IS BLACK", which seems a little Zen. However, Sod's law dictates that the two departments with the biggest first-year courses should be the ones who have failed to respond with the names of speakers for Thursday's info sessions. I have sent four different emails since November last year. I'd be tearing my hair out, but, kismet. If they aren't there, they aren't there.

I have never before tried the simple expedient of running orientation while hopped to the gills on anti-depressants. I recommend it. There's a sort of serene detachment. It works.

(Subject line? still Goats. Eighty three percent of known Goats are soothing to the soul).
  • Current Mood: amused surprisingly calm
Psychology is too important to feel like bothering. For Economics, the marginal return of students was lower than the marginal cost of a staff-member's time. The failure of Religious Studies is a Mystery...
Ah! Mystery solved. The Rel HoD I have been patiently emailing is no longer HoD, and probably felt absolved of all responsibility to reply to my mails. The administrator I mailed in desperation is the wrong person, someone new started a few months back and the website doesn't reflect that yet. One of those misguided communications things, and I don't have time at this time of year to chase them properly. Psychology also has a new HoD who took office unexpectedly at short notice, so I am restraining my miff.

The additional mystery was Politics, who apparently docilely arranged speakers a month or so back, and then completely forgot to tell me they had. I tie a knot, and go on.
Want moustache t- shirt...have in-office moustache meme that require t- shirt. It all started after of my trip to Barcelona with pinkthulu where sweet Thai/Vietnamese ladies (who possibly also indulged in thievery) called as they walked down the beach "hello, moustache"...and we conjured up images of fu man chus, dalis and hitlers painted straight onto our faces. Sadly what they offered was garden variety massages...and everybody knows sand and oil don't mix. On my return home my eccentric mildly obsessive compulsive nature caused me to exclaim frequently while working: "hello, moustache"...until my colleagues in sheer exasperation bought me moustache mug (which for some reason also features Frida Kohlo’s eyebrows and a note on the bottom: “for best result use other side”...que?) we refer to having a cup of tea as having a moustache. I likewise do not have a moustache( but I do know its power).
"Moustache" is actually such a lovely word, it's worth using a lot just for the sound. librsa has this bizarre and ongoing fixation with me in a Fu Manchu moustache. No, I don't know either.