What would you do to get a 'Best Friend Forever'?

TV producers are amazing. Just when I thought that reality tv couldn't get any more humiliating, they come out with something else that proves me wrong. The latest show I had the misfortune to come across whilst I was channel-hopping was 'Paris Hilton's BFF (Best Friend Forever)'. Yes, it's an old show, probably in its fourth or fifth season for all I know, but it's news to me.

In case anyone reading this is as slow on the uptake as I am, 16 'lucky' contestants battle it out to become Paris Hilton's "new best friend". Note the inverted commas. Paris of course knows what's best, so she tells them how to do their hair, what to wear, who to like and who to ignore. If they're lucky she'll treat them as her pets. If they don't do what she says, they don't trust her enough. Of course, the advice can only go one way because how can they know better than Paris Hilton?

Of course, the behaviour in itself is nothing new, and it seems especially common in the US (at least from watching movies about American college girls and teen flicks - not that bitching and back-stabbing doesn't occur elsewhere). It's sad that they believe it makes them more likeable to Paris, as if she doesn't see right through them (which she does). There's something unbelievably icky about the show to me, and somehow it's more humiliating than even Big Brother. Mixing with a rich, celebrity socialite might be considered an enviable aim to some, and maybe the designer makeovers and clothes and hand-me-downs are rewarding enough. As long as they don't make the mistake of believing she really is their best friend.

I have to say though, this is probably more REAL reality tv than some of the other shows around. I'm sure the borrowed glamour is what many people would like, and what some would take if they got the chance. It's just that I can't stomach watching it.

Joining the ranks of the employed

Well, I got the research job in Rothamsted. I am happy, but somehow not as excited as people seem to expect me to be. Partly that's due to the tizzy my supervisor has got into (and therefore infected me with) over my approaching thesis deadline, and the lack of thesis thus far. It's hard to be excited about a new post-doctoral job when you're still worrying about getting the prerequisite doctorate degree...

The other part is probably because I've been anticipating working in the US, and in fact I have a job less than 50 miles from where I am now (Rothamsted is near Luton). Not that I'm overly fond of the USA, but I feel that if I want to do a post-doc there before I settle down elsewhere, it would be sooner rather than later. I know there'll be other opportunities though.

Of course, to cap it all, I've spent weeks and weeks collecting together the samples for an experiment, only to just now find that it didn't work. It will now join the 'inconclusive data' section of my thesis.

I'm sure that the excited, happy, optimistic side of getting a job that seems really interesting with people who are really friendly will kick in progressively. So not to worry :P

Interview #1

The thesis writing is going slowly. My supervisor has succeeded in making me panic, but without actually motivating me to speed up my pace. I came back to Cambridge a couple of weeks ago, intending to finish the last remaining experiment (the lack of which is burning a big hole in my chapter draft) quickly and legging it back to Manchester. The day I got back though, my plans were scuppered by an email inviting me to interview for a job I'd applied for a couple of weeks before.

Having one week to prepare the presentation, practice it over and over, read up on the project and the three attached subprojects, read up the background of the three interviewers, AND most importantly, go shopping to get clothes fit for an interview and not just for the bonfire, was cutting it a bit fine. Kudos to my wonderful supervisor and the others in the lab for coming along to my practice talks and making detailed notes and giving advice. Especially to my supervisor, who came in especially on Saturday morning (and his wife, our resident post-doc, who OK-ed it) to sit through practice run no. 2, having practically slaughtered presentation take 1.

Anyway, to the interview, which was at Rothamsted research station (30 mins train journey north of London, near Luton - yet I still had to go south to London from Cambridge and back north again, that's the rail network for you). Arrive 1.35, wait a bit, give a presentation that was meant to be 20 mins long but for some reason finished at 2.10, so unless I started at a funny time, I must have been going at a ridiculously fast pace. Interview with three P.I.s (all well-known in their fields, thus have long and scaringly impressive biographies). Tour with another P.I., who was meant to ask me about my knowledge on viruses, but somehow didn't? (good sign or not, not sure, maybe my presentation was sufficient to convince him I'm a semi-decent virologist?). Chat with a post-doc, then another P.I., then pleaded a bathroom stop, then another post-doc. Then two students. Then it was 6.20...?!

Anyway, after being passed round and round like the provential parcel, I was knackered. I don't know if I got the job, but I definitely gave it my best shot. Unfortunately, regardless of whether I get the job or not, I still have to finish writing my thesis. For which I need to submit the abstract. Now. So, back to humdum panic.

PS I should find out by the end of the week if I got the job or not. Then I worry about whether I want to live near Luton or not. I'll keep you posted.

confused

'meow' said Allan
'woof' said Daniel
I wonder if being in the lion dance troupe has seriously affected their sense of identity
'sigh' says Sam

Reminds me of another confused animal I saw lately.... Daniel and Allan would like this.