Stuff
So, anyway, there I was in Glasgow at half-eleven on a Sunday night. Even normally (without the engineering work) I'd have missed the last train by then, so it was off to the bus station. Annoyingly, since the last time I'd done this there's been a lot of rebuilding behind Queens Street, changing the road layout so I couldn't find it for a while. I arrived five minutes before the midnight bus left, though, so I didn't have to wait in Glasgow overnight again. Mark was at Neon, and I was right not to be hoping to play stuff at people.
Yesterday I went to see Andrew Wilson's colleagues at One. Today I went to the doctor, to finally register after only four and a half years back in Edinburgh. Going by the questionnaire I seem depressingly fit apart from the extra weight. Getting a blood pressure figure was fun, though. The little electrical machine first tagged me at 158 / 68, which looks a bit funny in itself. After going through the form the nurse tried again (in case it was the white-coat effect), and it gave 148 / 94, which looks even weirder. A third try gave 133 / 95, at which point she shook her head and dug out a proper mercury sphyg and took it manually. This gave a reassuringly normal 131 / 82, which looks plausible for a no-longer-young adult. She thought that maybe the electronic beast was getting upset by my pulse, which was variously measured from 56 up to 62 - normal for me, in other words, but a little lower than is common.
In other news, we're getting a statue of James Clerk Maxwell, which obviously I'm pleased about, Antonin Scalia's giving a talk, which should be interesting and I'm tempted, and a FOAF has written I Was a Teenage Tory Werewolf, which I wasn't. And still am not, even though I'm hairier than I was then.
Yesterday I went to see Andrew Wilson's colleagues at One. Today I went to the doctor, to finally register after only four and a half years back in Edinburgh. Going by the questionnaire I seem depressingly fit apart from the extra weight. Getting a blood pressure figure was fun, though. The little electrical machine first tagged me at 158 / 68, which looks a bit funny in itself. After going through the form the nurse tried again (in case it was the white-coat effect), and it gave 148 / 94, which looks even weirder. A third try gave 133 / 95, at which point she shook her head and dug out a proper mercury sphyg and took it manually. This gave a reassuringly normal 131 / 82, which looks plausible for a no-longer-young adult. She thought that maybe the electronic beast was getting upset by my pulse, which was variously measured from 56 up to 62 - normal for me, in other words, but a little lower than is common.
In other news, we're getting a statue of James Clerk Maxwell, which obviously I'm pleased about, Antonin Scalia's giving a talk, which should be interesting and I'm tempted, and a FOAF has written I Was a Teenage Tory Werewolf, which I wasn't. And still am not, even though I'm hairier than I was then.