The eagle has landed. The fat man walks alone.

Here's a tip - when faced with a parent, much like my Pops, aiming a leather cleaner bottle nozzle at you to want you to see why it won't squirt, don't stand directly in front of said nozzle with mouth open. Leather cleaner tastes terrible.

Can I just also say, I love American Airlines/Eagle. They're the most helpful people in the business. Open gates for you and all that even when its 10 minutes to takeoff and you show up with two bags to check in. Wonderful wonderful people.

With all the flights I barely make it to, you would think I would leave home earlier to get to the airport. I have, however, never missed a flight yet. Still, shouldn't push my luck I suppose.

Driver's license that was lost has now surfaced magically in Dubai tucked happily away inside Pops' passport. I don't know why. Poor Pops is back home now and sounds plaintively lonely. This trip is all about auctioning off the stamp collection so that should be fun father-daughter bonding experience. Yes, we're both geeks.

Back in Boston now. Leave for Dubai tomorrow for about a month. Got some chores to take care of this afternoon but then I'm pretty much free until tomorrow evening. A little disoriented from the travels but that will change about the 3rd day in Dubai.

Anybody want anything from home?

Advantage Mid-caps

They didn't want to go out when they woke so I popped off to Tamba to get a box full of desi food while they sat at the table gazing out at the dancing fountains all ruffled in their pjs and robes. Of course, that meant that at 3:30 am we were all wide awake. Well they were awake, I was sleepy but that means diddly squat with you're with the Family. So off we went to explore the Blackjack tables (the Baccarat Bar was closed and we bored of Roulette). Did some shopping the day after. Saw the Steve Wyrick magic show where I put a knitting needle through a pane of glass - very exciting. Pops had his picture taken with the magician which I'm pretty sure was the highlight of his trip. Left Vegas on Saturday for NYC.

Sadly Pops has been tired and sleepy most of the day so we haven't done much (other than clean the kitchen, go out to get groceries, make shawarmas for lunch and watch Kal Ho Na Ho three times - once regular, once with the director's commentary and once again in scenes and pieces. I'd have called the Somster but he's in India trying to hide the fact that he's screamingly gay and living with a man (hai! hai!) in Manhattan. I told him he could marry me and that would take care of both our problems but he is skeptical.

Maybe I'll call the Tran-o-tron and go visit her cats. Or maybe I'll go back to the couch and watch the poker tournament with Pops. I could clean Black Cobra's sty but I'm afraid of wot I'll find under piles of things. Poker is best, methinks.

Lord I need to get back to work. I'm tired of vacationing and I've got more than an entire month left. Ugh, ennui.

Back to Boston on Wednesday with a stop in New Haven.

Viva Las Vegas!

Graduation was exciting. RK and Jean came from London and Pops and Black Cobra drove up from NYC. It rained most of the time. Hotel Commonwealth botched up their suite and the poor things had to be relocated to the horrid Sheraton downtown for one night but at least they sorted it out the next day and had the rooms ready. They were so apologetic that we managed to get the limo I'd been wanting to book but was unavailable so that was nice. The Family did get a little annoying with multiple requests for ham sammiches for which Black Cobra and I had to traipse around in the rain for but it was good of them to come and we did have champagne and the limo and Bombay Club for dinner after so it was all good.

The ceremony was very exciting. I was a bit bummed about getting the wrong color tassel but the folks at the GPO sorted that out. Pins were borrowed because I have an unusually small head and the mortarboard wouldn't sit. The speeches were lacking quite frankly. And Ivers went on and on about donating the gowns for the next graduating class and even though he put in a Scottish bit for me, it was a little boring after a while. The keynote was completely useless. Black Cobra, bless her heart, kept the fun levels up regardless. Drove all the way back to NYC in the rain that night she did, poor thing.

Then to Vegas the next day. United Airways managed to muck about with our flights as well so we were stuck in Philly for 5 hours longer than we wanted to be. Pops kept wanting to go out to smoke which meant that we went in and out of security about 3 times. They looked at us very suspiciously. We sat at the food court and ate chips and did crossword puzzles. It was very boring. Plus the people in Philly are ugly.

Finally reached Vegas and the lovely lovely Bellagio with our standard suite on the 34th ready and inviting. The next day saw some shopping (-$66) and some gambling ($-12k). Went to Gandhi for dinner and the food was appalling which is odd because they're usually quite good. The Strip's changed a bit. Aladdin's been bought out and remodeled as Planet Hollywood and there's lots of construction happening with the new City Center place and condos and wotnot. Bellagio's got the flower spring theme so it's drowning in fresh roses everywhere and so of course I want to take them all and pack 'em in my bag and bring 'em back to Boston with me. We do have a lovely large vase full in the living room. Very nice. I oo and aa in my head all the time. Khan would love it here.

More gambling today (+$2k) and off we go with mine host, Olly, to see The Mansion at the MGM Grand. I may not have mentioned Olly to you before. He's hot. I met him for the first time at the Bellagio's art gallery at the Monet exhibit. I wanted to do him then. He's got a little paunchy after his girlfriend moved in with him and he looks stressed out and is greying at the edges and I still want to do him. Since that won't happen, I'll just dream dirty dreams of him.

So The Mansion is the exclusive, secluded, unknown and unadvertised villas at the MGM. As Olly said when we walked in, "if you don't know about this place, you don't need to know about this place." There was a Ferrari, a Raybach, a few BMWs, two Benzs and two Ducatis parked outside for guest usage. I like to imagine Olly offering to go on a ride with me on the Strip but that could just be another dirty dream. They have 29 villas so very secluded from each other, we must have seen about 2 people there and they were fully booked. There's an indoor atrium about 4 stories high where the temperature is maintained at a constant 75 degrees throughout the year. The pool area is the only area that is open to the outside and also the only area (besides your villa of course) where you can smoke. That's right, Vegas has banned smoking in public places. Go figure. The villas itself come in contemporary skyloft style or old English antique with indoor pools, heated bathroom floors, wireless everything and Steinway pianos. There is a private theatre screening room and conference facility at your disposal as well as a lovely restaurant manned by two award-winning chefs. And they're good too - we had lobster in spicy sauce, chicken kung pao, massive baked prawns, wontons-the-size-of-my-small-head soup and lovely petit fours for lunch. Listening to the sounds of the fountains in the atrium feeling the cool breeze scented with the hint of lemon (they have trees in there with giant lemons). Even the lemonade tasted gourmet with a hint of raspberry and ginger. RK thinks we might stay there next time around. I would like that. You can bring your own personal chef because the villas have fully stocked kitchens and he'd like that. Negi won't like it - there's no tandoor for him and he doesn't speak much English. But that's never stopped us before.

They've all pottered off to sleep now. I think I'll go read my book and look at the fountains from the living room window.

No Ad Rants for Wolfie

I've recovered enough from the booze-laden madness to check my calendar and realize that I'm supposed to be at the Ad Industry Leadership Conference today. I'm not going, I say defiantly and stick my head back under the covers. They won't miss me. It's not like I have to speak or host or anything.

Crap, do I? I can't remember. Oh well, back to bed.

Good morning, chickiepoos.

Beeftartarfrocks

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No. Harvard Street

Ashwin, Khan's friend from Marlborough, popped down for the weekend to take a look at apartments for the summer and we drove around looking at a few. Only thanks to Khan's lovely scatterbrainedness we drove from Boston to Cambridge to get to Allston and then to Downtown to get to Central Square and then we couldn't find Porter's Square seeing as it was the other way on Mass Ave. The kicker, however, was when Khan said we couldn't make a right because the sign said "No. Harvard Street". Mind you, he was perfectly sober. I decided that instead of being my usual anal backseat driver self I would stay silent and let them do wot they do. This was a very bad idea as we spent driving around for 4 hours when it should have taken us 30 minutes.

The boys are going back to Central Square again today. That is if they can find it. Reception at the Dean's house this afternoon which should be highly idon'tknowwot seeing as I seem to be the only one who hasn't zillowed his house and isn't fascinated by the prospect of high tea in a 9-bedroom $4m mansion.

Sorry, yes, slightly bitchy, I know. I have nothing to wear. Somewhere in the madness of it all, I forgot to put my winter clothes away for my summer ones.

I shall watch old Bruce Willis movie now.

Oh fer Pete's sake

The strange thing about being done with finals is that one is besieged with conflicting emotions. On one hand, we're pleased we don't have to study anymore. On the other hand, we're bored out of our minds. Yes, I know it's only been a few days but I can't just sit around with nothing to do.

Wednesday evening celebrations started at Cornwalls (where else), moved on to An Tua Nua with some very bad singing on the karaoke and then back to Cornwalls (where else). I should have bought stock in that place. Didn't drink much since was still a bit hungover from the day before (which would explain the C I get on that final) and pottered on home at 10:30. Did brunch at the diner with Khan on Thursday, bummed around, drank some more. Went for a whisky tasting at the Lenox with Peter and a few others. That was fun. I was ushered into the room by a screamingly gay waiter in pink underwear under his requisition blacks prancing around with a giant white feather. A Chivas Ginger was thrust into my hand, a crab cake into my face and the party was on. Glitter bikini-clad women with giant feathers on their heads popped up and jiggled around much to the delight of all the sad suits and the cabana boys obliged the other sad suits. Can I just say, there's nothing sadder than a 35-yr old investment banker who desperately wants to get laid. Man or woman. I did learn a little bit about whisky and a few very bad Scottish jokes (Why do Scotsmen chop their toes off? To get closer to the bar) and got to sample some 18-yr old Scotch. Very nice. Then Peter and I couldn't take the man in the skirt yelling at DJ Certified Bananas to "pump up the volume, you slimy bastard" anymore and we pottered off to the Hong Kong at Fanueil Hall. On the way out we bumped into Mr. and Mrs. Shaw, freshly arrived from Scotland, a lovely 70-ish year old couple, all wrinkly and kind looking who Peter promptly told to go to Newport, RI and leave the wife at home. After this piece of shocking behaviour we giggled our way to Government Center where at the Hong Kong, more booze was consumed while Pete and Aaron (who runs a belly-dancing supplies shop, how exciting) told me stories of floating down rivers in inner tubes of tractor tires carting about 800 cases of beer. These stories proved too much for me at one point and I insisted we play bar-side games and so we spent a massive fortune in quarters at the nekkid wimmen version of Where's Waldo with self always getting the bits about the chick's hair at which point Aaron deemed me unworthy (since I couldn't spot a boob) and shoved me into a taxicab with a teriyaki on a stick. All in all, a good time was had by all.

Did brunch at the diner with Khan on Friday, scorned the drink, bummed around at Harvard Ave Cafe and finally started reading Jews, God and History (Max Dimont), purchased August 2006 at Denver airport but never had time to open. Interesting book. Very complicated. Khan, bless him, ordered a Vanilla Soy Matte which turned out to be the worst piece of crap I've ever tasted that has been served in a cup with foam. If you are ever faced with it, decline. Do so expeditiously and be not lured by curiosity. It's a horrible drink. Dre had her birthday party here last night and while the upside is that the apartment looks very pretty, cosy and clean, the downside is that people decided that they wanted to pop crackers at 3:30 am INSIDE the apartment. This is because they were stupidly drunk and had to be shepherded outside onto the street where they promptly became Someone Else's problem. Didn't sleep very well last night. Had strange dreams. Lay about, reading, mostly. Still is nice to be in bed swiping one's leg against soft cool sheets, know wot I mean? Khan was mumbling something about how marbles are the fifth dimension but he was in a food coma after having visited that den of vice, India Dhaba, so we forgave him. I did watch Anita and Me yesterday on brilliant NetFlix. Good movie. Nicely done.

I couldn't lie in bed anymore so I've moved to the couch. It's gotten windy, cloudy and 59 degrees suddenly. My wind chime by the window has orchestral aspirations and the curtains billow more often than they did yesterday. I shall sit here now, in my jammies, and read my email and watch Saturday morning cartoons with my cuppa sulaimani. Only two things on the official agenda - Swimming and Giselle at the Boston Ballet. That is if I can get tickets. Although considering the rate at which funds are being depleted from underneath my mattress, I prolly should lay low and cheap until Vegas. Oo, that sounded dirty.

Need more tea.

There's only so much beer you can drink at 4 pm

IS Strategy exam not over 10 minutes and the troops are headed to Cornwalls for a pint or three. We marched in step too. It was a little disturbing.

Many many MANY pitchers later self staggers home on the train. There's only so much beer you can drink on a sunny afternoon with a final exam the next day. Oi, my head hurts. On the flip side, I am done with the MS part of the MS-MBA. Whoohoo!

Apparently we were so loud in our revelling that the school upstairs complained. Serves them right for opening a school above a pub. Silly idea if you ask me. We did boo and hiss rather loudly when people left and yay-ed when they arrived. Also, I think we heckled 3 passing professors. The cops were very amused. Kaya, Pope's bitch, made a guest appearance and left lots of little dog hairs on my black blouse before she wriggled out of my lap to gnaw on Ken's shoe. Someone took pictures. I remember the flashes. Maybe that was not camera flashes but beer flashes. I can't tell.

Here's a tip - don't tip over backwards in a seat trying to look at a tree upside down. Gives you a helluva head rush. On second thoughts, do.

Ok, slightly tipsy now. Must study. Must study. I want chocolate. Must study. Ooo.. Kahlua!

Aww, I'm gonna miss the madness :(

Blocked!

The University of Connecticut has notified the Dubai Education Council (DEC) that it has halted plans to establish a satellite campus in Dubai following pressure from pro-Israel politicians and interest groups in protest of the UAE's 'human rights record' and policy towards Israel.

Political science professor Dr Abdul Khaleq Abdullah condemned the move, saying there was no place for politics in academic decisions.

"It's obvious that the ignorance (about Arabs) that prevails among the American public has crept into academics," he said.

Read the full article here.

Also read "UAE need not sit through an inquisition".

So this puts a damper into the American Higher Education's plans to take 12 universities to Dubai as they suggested they could. In case you don't know, that's how I ended up at BU in the first place. Business talks between the Family and the AHE revealed that I hadn't applied to BU and I still have a sneaky suspicion that a little leaning one way resulted in me going to BU and not NYU. Not that I'm complaining mind you (NYU rankings notwithstanding).

But still, this would explain all the shifty-eyed-ness on the part of the AHE during negotiations.

Mega Dubai

Here. Watch a rather long but fairly cool (quality notwithstanding) video of what Dubai's Strageic Plan 2015 will accomplish.

An awesome chest would make me want a nice rack

I feel the need to go out and buy a mitre saw. I want to stain something mahogany.

This is because I've just watched two back to back episodes of Yankee Workshop on PBS. This Norm chappie has just made a lovely chest of drawers. He did this very complicated thing where he prepared the wood, then he stained it and then he rubbed something on it and then he sponged it off and then he stained it again and after 6 hours he had mahogany.

Oh please don't make me study for finals. Have a heart. Wolfie's bored and so ready to be done with this MBA bizznizz.

Oo! This Old House is next. They're putting St. Augustine sod down around the front of the house.

Can I just say, I love that PBS has no ads in the middle of the program. You! Yes, you! Go contribute to your local PBS station! Don't you want to be more?

One down, three to go

IS Strategy paper written. Three finals next week. Bit bored of working now. Weather is not cooperating by being stupidly wonderful.

What I need is a good pre-finals week date.

New computer ahoy!

Say hello to Wolfie's new ThinkPad R60 Core 2 Duo with 1GB RAM and 15" of lovely luminescence.

I have a fingerprint sensor *stupid grin*.

So very VERY nice to own a functional computer again. Oh happy days are here again.

3 finals next week.

Courtesy Stanley Bing's Bullshit Jobs book

Blogger
Download contents of your mind, even when there aren't any.

$$: Relatively small, but prospects for high-paying bullshit job in the future are virtually assured.

The upside: This is one of the bullshit jobs you can do immediately, with no training and no prior experience. You can also become very famous, since the established media, increasingly devoid of excitement and ideas of its own, has taken to siphoning off daily blogging activity as a much better and more interesting alternative to actual news.

The downside: You need a full, daily dose of imagination, guile, bile, and people pouring nonsense into your head that you can repeat.

The dark side: Your skin glows an ethereal white, your eyes become rheumy and bloodshot. Hair erupts in horrendous places. You don't care. You are now nothing but a conduit through which pass all the rare gases of the universe. You are, in short, a blog.

Consultant
Have gun, will travel

$$: Entry level grunts may begin in the high five and low six figures. If you're a graduate of one of the huge consultant factories that leach humanity out of students and turn them into guns for hire--Wharton, and to a lesser extent, the somewhat squishier Stanford School of Business--you could be making an executive's salary almost immediately.

The upside: It's a pretty easy job, with great travel benefits, nice hotels, drinks on the companies you are soaking.

The downside: Your kids can never explain what you do to their friends.

The dark side: You are a ninja, a samurai, a lone traveler on the road to nowhere. It's a very opulent nowhere if you're good at it. But somewhere in your heart, you want to come in from the cold.

A real-life experiment

A recent experiment in the realm of quantum physics has shown that reality does not exist, when there is no observer.

Read article here.