When I'm feeling sad

This streak of sad news has to end somehow. It is depressing me and I even risk depressing all of you too and that's not why you read this blog, I'd imagine. I need to start writing about happy things again. I have been racking my brain about what happy news there is for me to write about.

I could write about Teflon Tony finally moving out of nr 10 but I prefer to withhold my verdict on whether or not that is good news until we know exactly what he has been replaced with. I could write about Tim Henman getting his butt kicked at Wimbledon, which always puts a smile on my face, but that might upset my British readers. I have searched the news for something upbeat but unless you are the kind of person who rejoices over the reunion of the Spice Girls, it is slim pickings out there today.

So unless you can all point me in the right direction and flood me with positive news, I am stuck for now singing to myself about raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens so I won't feel so bad.

When it rains it pours

Occassionally life insists on kicking you while you're down. Sadly enough we have lost a second member of our family this week: our sweet old cat Karel. Some people might frown upon hearing me call him family but those people have clearly never had a pet. Especially not one like Karel.

We don't know exactly how old he was. He only showed up on our doorstep 9 years ago, but we do know he was pretty darn old. The best guess is that he was 21 which in human terms puts him more or less at par with my grandfather. None of our other cats were ever fortunate enough to live to such an advanced age.

They say you don't own a cat; they own you. That was definitely true for Karel. One summer he started coming around and eventually, after some phone calls to his then "caretakers", he ended up staying. He had chosen to adopt us as his new family. Karel was the sweetest natured cat you can imagine. Everybody in the neighbourhood knew and adored him. He was clever too. When he was younger he had figured out how to open doors by jumping for the handle and leveraging his body weight. His jumping days were long gone. These last few months he even needed a little stool to help him get up on the sofa.

Every time I left Holland this year I would take a long good look at him knowing it could be the last. This time I was certain of it though. He had stopped eating a few days before already and he was getting visibly older by the day. Walking out the door yesterday was heartbreaking. He passed away quietly late last night. He was old, tired and he has lived a long and happy life but the timing is awful. We are all going to miss him dearly.

Some days life just really sucks.

The end of an era

Last Tuesday my grandmother passed away. She had been in hospital for the last three weeks already after major surgery but it all still happened rather quickly.

My mum was supposed to come to London on Tuesday. In the days before, however, it was starting to become apparent that my grandmother was not making the kind of recovery that was expected. She wasn't eating anymore and was getting weaker by the day. On Sunday evening my mum decided that it would not be wise to go and leave her. When we spoke on Monday evening it was clear there was little hope left and on Tuesday morning she died. My mum, uncle and grandfather were all there by her side. The hardest thing about living abroad is not being able to be there for your family or friends when they need you. Thankfully, London is not too far and I managed to get a flight home that same day. The cremation service was this Saturday. It was a beautiful, dignified farewell to the special, proud and, at times, also very complicated woman that my grandmother was.

My grandmother was the last of my 'real' grandparents. My father's parents passed away a long time ago. I have only a few memories of my grandmother from that side of the family and my grandfather I remember mostly as an old man sitting in his armchair, smoking his pipe. My mother's father died before my brother was even born so unfortunately I have no memories of him at all; just stories. I do still have a grandfather. My grandmother remarried after her divorce and although we don't share any genes, I consider her second husband my grandfather for all intents and purposes. But of course he can't fill in all of the blanks in our family history. That link to my past is gone now. Of course, one never asks these questions while we still can anyway. It's only when the line breaks that you realise how much you don't know.

My grandmother was 87; a good age. An age where you have to accept that's how life goes and that maybe she's had her fair innings. That doesn't make it any less sad for those left behind though. My 96 (!) year old grandfather will have to find a new way to fill his days now that he can't squabble with her all day long anymore. My mum and uncle have lost their last remaining parent and are left having to sort through a lifetime of memorabilia.

Я не говорю на русском языке

Alright, I have promised you that I would explain to you all soon why I was talking about Russia before.

Some time ago I wrote here about a project my thesis supervisor assigned me to in Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan. Unfortunately we are still waiting for the funding approval of this project to come through. Since I have a thesis deadline in September that is non-negotiable, we can't sit around and wait for that. Instead, he has now offered me a different project for which everything is already arranged. This project, as you will have guessed by now, will take place in Russia.

The focus of the project is slightly different but it still involves analysis of the healthcare offered to tuberculosis patients. The Red Cross is running a TB programme in several Russian regions and my project centres on the evaluation of the effectiveness of this programme in one of these. I am being thrown in at the deep end a bit by my supervisor because the information I just gave you is pretty much about all I know myself. I only know that I am expected to be travelling to Russia and spent about two weeks doing interviews with people there. That is of course, if I can sort out my visa application on time.

The Central Asia project is not necessarily out the window either. If the funding approval comes through soon, I just might get to work on that after my thesis project. It is all very exciting what is happening now but to be honest, I am somewhat worried I may be getting in over my head. For somebody who only last year was still trying to purify proteins from E.coli my career is making a very drastic sudden move. It is what I really want to do and why I came to London in the first place. It's just scary when dreams start becoming reality.

You've been Googled

After a period in which all my attention was taken up by exams and business plans, I have finally returned to job hunting. It's very half-heartedly though. I will be working with my thesis supervisor for at least the next couple of months and of course I hope this position will serve as a spring board to my dream career. Still, it would not be wise for me to put all my eggs in one basket. So when a job advert was practically thrown in my lap for which the profile fits me like a glove, I told myself I had to put in an application.

Writing CV's and cover letters is not exactly a hobby of mine. I always wonder what to include and how to phrase it. Of course lying on your CV is a big no-no but where is the line between embellishing and flat-out lying? For safety's sake I tend to be very much on the cautious side thus potentially underselling myself. The alternative is too dangerous to consider seriously. In this information era it is so easy to check facts that you're bound to be found out if you are anything less than truthful. Anybody can do a quick Google search. Especially people like me who keep a blog and are registered on Facebook and Hyves need to be careful. If you put anything potentially embarrassing out there you have to be prepared for the possiblity of a future employer seeing those pictures of you dancing on the table.

Although I am not aware of any particularly incriminating information about myself I have ran a Google search to see what shows up and if, for instance, this blog can be found that way. It looks like my internet presence is pretty much in line with what my CV says about me. It pulls up a rather dull list of scientific references and the minutes of student council meetings. A search for pictures is even duller and shows a crystal structure of the protein I worked with! Nothing to worry about then. Nonetheless, I will continue to be quite careful with the information I make public. I have just heard that my CV passed the first round of scrutiny and that I am invited for a phone interview. I guess I have been Google-approved.

Gone to the dogs

Last night I had a typical British evening out. A friend invited me to come along to the greyhound racing track in Wimbledon.

I didn't quite know what to expect so in my naivety I asked what I should wear. I had images in mind of women in flowery dresses and hats, sipping champagne. Nothing could be further from the truth. Dog racing is also known as the "poor man's horse racing" and is far removed from the high society image of horse racing. It was more a spectacle of big bellies, beer and betting. It was very entertaining to see the whole experience. The dogs waiting in their traps, eager to go chase that fake bunny, the trainers in their white coats, the betting frenzy and the tacky bombastic music as the race is about to start.

I did bet a few pounds myself that all woefully went to waste. My friend won £0.60 and one other person in our group managed to actually go home with a few more pounds than she came with. Other than that though we all lost. My bets were all pretty much wild guesses anyhow. We did get a stat book before the races but I had no idea how to interpret all those facts and figures. My chosen ones were primarily based on the dog's name. Unfortunately Fear Haribo, Rhincrew Molly and Unique Pharaoh did not bring me any luck. O well, I am more of a cat person anyway.

Sour grapes

I was hoping today's contribution would be a triumphant one. Instead what you will get is the sour ramblings of a sore loser. You may have guessed it by now: we did not win our business plan competition. We came in second. My rational side tries to tell me that is actually really good but to be honest, I am gutted and so is the rest of the team.

We gave a stellar performance today and I really can not see how we could have done any better a job. In fact, this is what our lecturer confirmed to us afterwards as well. This will sound very, very bitchy, I am well aware of that, but our lecturer confided in us after the ceremony that had it been fully his decision we would have taken home those brand new laptops that were the first prize. Even worse, he told us we could have taken home the first prize in the MBA competition! Not exactly much comfort, is it? Unfortunately it wasn't all his call and the other juror was somebody from the computer industry (hence the laptops) who had no full appreciation for the intricacies of the biotech business we were pitching.

I think I am mostly upset because I saw the presentation of the winning team and they were by no means my favourite. It is hard enough losing to a team that in your heart you have to admit were better, but the team that I felt were our genuine competitors only came in third. I know I am being ungraceful in defeat here but as I have said before: we were in this to win. Besides, I really could have used that laptop for my trip to Russia (I'll explain soon). Instead, I now have a brand new 20''W flatscreen monitor sitting in my room for which I have no use whatsoever. Does anybody want to make me an offer for it?

Petit Paris

There are days when I wonder if I managed to get on the wrong plane and fly to Paris instead of London. I live in a part of London close to the borough of South Kensington, one of the most affluent parts of the city (mind you, I said 'close to', not IN!). This area is so full of French people it is like little Paris out there. Aside from the French consulate, the area houses a French high school , a French cultural institute and several French bakeries and bookstores. The population of French people in London is in fact so large that Nicolas Sarkozy actually came over to campaign here a few months ago.

Out of the 4 people that I currently live with, 3 are French. We try to keep English the predominant language around the house but I do still get my fair dose of French. I should be able to handle that. I have had French lessons for six years in school and it was in fact one of my best subjects. I vaguely remember discussing the meaning of 'Le rouge et le noir' at my final oral exam. On my CV I actually claim to be business conversational in the language. At some point in my life I would have had no reservations about making such a claim but those days are long gone. I haven't practised it since I left school all those years ago and it has gone pretty rusty. I realised it again this morning at the bakery, buying my croissant, when two ladies were carrying on a conversation in French. I could just make out the words 'plage', 'soleil' and 'Marseille' so I assume they were discussing their holiday plans. My teacher would be very disappointed in me.

As I have mentioned many times before I would really love to end up working for international organisations such as WHO or the Red Cross. Their requirements include that you are fluent in one of their official languages and at least conversational in an other. The options are English, Spanish, Chinese, Russian, Arabic and... French. Despite my efforts this year to learn some Spanish my best bet at this stage probably still is to go for French. Also, the headquarters of both these organisations are in Geneva where the primary language is, again, French. I suppose I should start taking more advantage of being exposed to the language so much. Who knew you could go to London to brush up on your French?

On your marks...

Everybody loves a winner. And everybody loves to be a winner. I'm not proud of it but I am one of those übercompetitive people. I will choose my battles though. I don't care too much about losing at boardgames and I am certainly not sporty enough to ever win a medal in any kind of athletics. But when it come to battles of the mind, my darker side takes over.

I have always had this drive to be the best. Getting a good grade in school, even an excellent one, wasn't enough as long as somebody else had a better one. Of course that philosophy becomes harder and harder to maintain as you move up the academic ladder. The playing field gets tougher the further you go. By the time I got to university I had to acknowledge that there will always be somebody out there smarter than you. A valuable life lesson.

Our business plan competition draws to a close this coming week and it has seriously brought out my competitive streak again. I find myself wondering what the other teams are up to, trying to spot the favourites and the dark horses. Fortunately my sentiment is shared by the rest of the team and we are all working very hard to iron out the last flaws in our plan. It has even put us on a plane to the Netherlands this week to meet with the brains behind the patent. Now that is going the extra mile, 202 of 'em in fact! We did really well in the first round and I do believe we stand a fair chance of coming out on top but we can't get too cocky just yet. Arrogance breeds ignorance and that we can not afford.

There are rumours flying about surrounding the prizes to be won. I'm no holier than the next person and of course I would welcome a material reward but the main reason we are all keen on winnning is the prestige that comes with it. A resume that can boast winning a business plan competition carries some real weight around here and in the cut-throat world that is the London job market we can all use a competitive edge.

Echt HEMA

This week I'm off again for another short trip back home, this time on school related 'business' (more on that later). On the way back I won't be carrying a lot of souvenirs. I used to bring back stroopwafels every time but I've recently discovered that the snack shop at my local tube station also sells them! The other thing I tend to pick up is old Dutch cheese. That is something I haven't been able to find here anywhere. Occassionally I bring over some other small things. Like most people I am fairly brand loyal and I can't get my favourite toothpaste and shampoo over here. Other than that though there aren't many things that are so exclusively Dutch I couldn't buy them in London.

There is one thing, however, I really do miss: HEMA! My non-Dutch friends living in Holland have been singing the shop's praises for years and I never fully understood why they would think it so special. Now I do. You don't know what you've got till it's gone! HEMA is the ultimate "go-to'' shop. It doesn't matter what you are looking for; electrical extension cords, hold-up stockings (ask a girl, guys), curtain hooks... I don't know how they do it but they always seem to have just the thing you were looking for. If there is a shop anything like it around here, I for sure haven't been able to find it yet.

It turns out I'm not alone in my craving for HEMA. Research among Dutch expats has shown it's our biggest common denominator. Good news might be on the way for us. Last week HEMA was taken over by a UK based private equity firm that is planning to expand its international operations. "HEMA; Coming soon to a highstreet near you"? I can't wait!

Pucker up

The eskimo's rub noses, the Japanese bow and the Dutch...well, we kiss. Not one, not two, but THREE ferm ones you get: 1x left, 1x right and 1x left again (or vice versa so you wish). I've always found this greeting ritual a bit excessive. Especially if you have a room full of people to work your way through, it's very tedious to have to kiss everybody three times.

Here in England I have quickly abandoned the 'triple X' practice. I haven't quite been able to work out what the local custom is though. It seems to be something in between one and two kisses, with a kind of semi-hug thrown in for closer friends. Most of the time I get it right these days and I don't usually end up sending kisses into thin air anymore.

This weekend, though, I've had some culturally confused encounters. None of the people I met up with are Dutch funnily enough, but they all know that I am and are clearly familiar with the ritual. So when we exchanged greetings and I moved away after the first kiss there was instant confusion. The receiving parties were fully expecting all three! In one case the confusion got such that when I then leaned back in to offer up the remaining smooches, the other person was just turning away; limbs got in the way and the glass I was holding was sent crashing to the floor. Admittedly, as far as culture clashes go this is not a very serious one. Nonetheless, I feel a universal greeting ritual is in order.

Blowing out the candles

Well, that's it: only 364 more days separating me from the big three-oh...!

Thank you all for the emails, cards and other messages I got from you yesterday. I loved them. I celebrated my birthday on the weekend already as obviously Mondays are not the best days for partying. First, on Friday I went out for a nice lunch with some of my classmates and then on Saturday there was dinner and lots more partying. It was maybe a bit weird that most of the people I celebrated with this year are people that I didn't yet know on my previous birthday but it was great fun nonetheless. It makes me feel like I am starting to settle in here somewhat.

Turning 29 doesn't affect me much but in all honesty: I am not really looking forward to the next one. I know I am being silly about it, it's just a number, but I can't help it. Maybe it's being back in student life but I can't come to grips yet with the fact that my twenties are quickly fading away. When did we get to be old enough for that?! I could swear I have already even spotted my first grey hair. How scary is that? At least I have the next 364 days to get used to the idea...

Slaying the dragons

Today we had to give the 'elevator pitch' for the Business Plan Competition. I want to thank those of you who have been so kind to send me their ideas. It was great fun to see how some of you really got into it. Unfortunately most of the ideas did not turn out to be feasible for us, mainly for lack of the right expertise or the connections to pull it off.

Eventually we ended up staying close to home for me. I was so caught up in the novelty of my life here that I temporarily forgot that I still have a nice network to deploy back in Holland. Just last week it finally dawned on me that I actually knew somebody who could help us out. A few e-mails and phone calls later I found myself going over a highly promising patent application straight out of the Gorlaeus. And it gets better. The inventors are two very familiar faces; they work only one floor up (Gilles and Erik)! Although I have managed to stay away from their soil dwelling bugs in my Metprot years we are now actually writing a business plan to exploit just that technology. You can run but you can't hide!

I obviously can't divulge here exactly what our plan is since this is all patent pending but even more importantly; the university is actually looking to get clients for this patent. This means that our business plan is more than just a paper excercise. Whatever we produce, the university may use to attract interested parties meaning we better do our job properly. This real dimension of it makes it all the more interesting to us as well.

Since we only got the patent this Monday, we have been working very hard this whole week to get an initial feeling for what we are dealing with. Today we got to pitch the preliminary plan to our lecturers. It was a smash hit! I believe the exact words were "outstanding" and "fantastic job" and we have been shortlisted as candidates to win the big competition in 3 weeks time. I didn't expect I would like this part of my course but I am in fact very excited now. Although personally I don't intend to set up any business and for me it's all hypothetical, some people have already expressed a serious interest in the whole idea. I love it when a plan comes together.

Down memory lane - Part 2

Seeing some of my old teachers again at my reunion brought back some long forgotten memories of things I used to know. Latin conjugations, French vocabulary, geometry... wow, so much information has passed through my brain and so little of it stuck!

Sunday I decided it was time to give my old room in my mum's house a good clear out. The thing about that room is that I pretty much left everything behind when I moved out. So all the stuff I accumulated in my teenage years and even before has been mummifying in there for years. A real trip down memory lane! I found old 'avondvierdaagse' medals, a hideous clay pot made for Mother's day (how appropriate to unearth that again on Mother's day!), 3 old Sony walkmans but most of all: piles and piles of school notes. Every note book since my first year in high school has been preserved. Treasures of knowledge. Had it not been for the fact I recognise my own hand writing I wouldn't have believed that I once actually knew all that. I am in awe of high school me and feel very ashamed that all that knowledge has gone right out the window. The crown on my cleaning excercise was the discovery of every single one of my old high school exams, safely tucked away together in a big envelope: the ultimate shrine to knowledge long-forgotten . Here are some of the things I used to know back in 1996:

Mathematics (wiskunde B)
See the Figure and:
- calculate the distance between point C and the line AD
- calculate the volume of the body

Latin
Laocoon ardens summa decurrit ab arce
et procul "o miseri, quae tanta insania, cives?
creditis avectos hostes? aut ulla putatis
dona carere dolis Danaum? sic notus Ulixes?
aut hoc inclusi ligno occultantur Achivi
aut haec in nostros fabricata est machina muros,
..."

-Translate and indicate (scan) the metrical pattern

Physics
The isotope ⁸₃Li decays with emittance of a b-particle to form ⁸₄Be which then splits into 2 a-particles, according to:


-Calculate the speed with which the a-particles are emitted, assuming the ⁸₄Be-core had zero velocity.

Errr, right... anyone?

Down memory lane - Part 1

For reasons obvious from my last post I spent this weekend back in Holland. By sheer chance my trip coincided with the reunion of my old high school, the Johan van Oldebarnevelt gymnasium. I didn't attend the previous reunion some years ago. It was too soon and I was far too absorbed in my life as a student to care what my former classmates were up to. However, I graduated in 1996 so it's been over 10 years by now. Enough time to start getting at least a bit curious. Since I was around any way, why not go and find out..?

Reunions are all about showing off what you have accomplished since high school (degrees, jobs, wedding rings, babies; the usual suspects). But after you have exhausted those topics, there is not much left other then repeat to each other how you all haven't changed a bit. It's actually true though, you know; that last statement. People hadn't changed a bit. Within minutes all the old cliques had regrouped and despite some changed hairdo's and a few extra kilos here and there, everybody was essentially still exactly the same as 10 years ago. Unfortunately not so many of my old classmates had shown up. Of the people in the picture (class 2C, 1991!) only 2 other people showed. There were a few more from the parallel classes but still not that many. Maybe another 10 years need to pass first before everybody else gets curious enough.

I don't recollect my high school years with any great fondness. To illustrate, not long after this picture was taken I got my first pair of glasses and I would be wearing orthodontic braces for several more years. Not a happy combination when you're 14 years old! Throughout the 6 years of high school I was cyclically and frustratingly falling in and out of love with the same poor guy (yes, he's in the picture), sometimes also with others. Teenage anxieties reigned freely. I had plenty of people I used to hang out with but considering there are only two people from all those years that I still occasionally talk to, I didn't make many friends for life there. To be honest, I much preferred my years at university. When are we having the next ACD reunion?

Apple off the family tree

Today it is exactly 5 years ago since my mum, my brother and I suffered the hardest day of our lives when my dad suddenly died. Now, five years later, I still miss him every bit as much as I did then but life does go on and so do we. I was still in the first year of my Ph.D. back then and I used to go home at least every other weekend. A lot has changed since. I obtained my doctorate, decided bioscience was not the place for me and moved to the UK to do a degree in Health Management, a discipline right at the crossroads of what my mum does and what my dad did.

I discuss a lot of what I learn on my course with my mum. She has the practical experience from the medical world and can tell me how all of my wonderful text book theories work out in the real world. But I also so would have loved to discuss these things with my dad and hear his thoughts from a manager's perspective. I am sure he too would have had some things to say about some of what I am being taught. In some regards my dad was quite 'old school'. For instance, he didn't like slick slide presentations at all. He much preferred using flip charts to draw his diagrams on. Maybe he would have eventually come around and learned how to work PowerPoint. Who knows?

I don't know how he would have felt about my career change. I think he would have supported it though. Although I am constantly being told I look the spitting image of my mother, I think that in character I take after my father quite a lot. I'd like to believe that in what ever career lies ahead of me in the near future, I will be able to combine the best of both my parents.

My golden ticket

It's been a while since I gave an update on my plans for life after I finish my degree. Mostly that's because with all the assignments and exams going on I simply haven't had much occasion to think about it, let alone take any action. Well, the lecture & exam part of my course is behind me so it's time to start focusing on the future. And it looks like that future will involve me hanging around in London for another while.

I have mentioned before that over the summer I will be working on a really interesting and exciting project for my final thesis. In a nutshell, we'll be looking at the resource allocation (techno-speak for spending money) on combating tuberculosis in parts of Central Asia. I won't be doing this all by myself obviously as it involves a lot of work and, even more importantly, requires some real serious experience. The work will be part of the ongoing research at the College. The whole project will also most likely take substantially more time than the three months I have to do my thesis work in. Which is why my time here in London will be stretched out.

My supervisor on this project has invited me to stay on in his group for a while so that I can gain some relevant experience and further build my resume. He is a real authority in his field and this is a great opportunity for me. Naturally I am taking him up on his offer. We'll be working on some other projects as well. My position in the group will more or less be that of an intern. I will not be directly employed by the University but I will be getting some sort of pay. I haven't even asked how much or for how long. The opportunity is too good to let such 'trivial details' matter. ;-) The idea is that with the added experience and his contacts doors will open for me that without are much harder to crack. I will have to prove myself of course but at least I am getting the best leg up I could possibly hope for. Now it's up to me to climb that wall to my dream job.

Six degrees of separation

Do you know that game called "6 degrees of Kevin Bacon"? The challenge of the game is to take any actor or actress and link that person to Kevin Bacon through no more than 6 consecutive people who have worked together. Within the tight-knit world of Hollywood the question is probably not whether or not the trail exists but more whether you can find it. There is also a more general theory, however, that suggests the '6 degrees of separation' rule applies universally; that we are all connected to each other through only 6 people or less. I find this a bit hard to believe. Even with the highly varied and international circle of friends that I have, I can't think of any way to connect me to that shepherd on the steppes of inner-Mongolia or the medicine man in the jungle of Brazil.

It seems though that since coming to Imperial College my 6-step network has had some interesting new additions. At the moment I am taking a class in Entrepreneurship; how to go about when you want to start up your own business. A crucial element in any such endeavour involves who you know or how you can get to know the right people. Yes, that most intangible of skills called networking! The staff and alumni of the College offer a rich source of contacts. Even if you don't feel very entrepreneurial such a network is a valuable asset for life. After this week's lecture, for instance, I have learned that I am just 3 small steps removed from Borat and only 4 from Mr. Microsoft himself! Just imagine where I could get within those next couple of steps...

These boots aren't made for walking

When I first moved to London, I made a rookie mistake. In my 32 kg suitcase I carried one pair of chic high heeled shoes, a pair of even higher heeled boots and my second pair of boots was on my feet since that was easier than trying to cram both pairs into my suitcase and wearing sensible shoes. I figured that being in business school meant having to dress a bit more businesslike and so I didn’t pack any of my sturdy, yet inelegant flats.

It didn’t take me very long to come to regret that decision. London is a city where you walk & walk & then walk some more. In Holland, you just cycle everywhere but here: you walk. For women like my mum, who walk around in heels 24/7, that is not a problem but I am not one of those Sex & the City women. In my opinion heels are great for when you need to look fab but they are not meant for all this power walking! Within days my feet were in miserable shape, aching with every step. I needed a pair of new shoes and I needed them immediately. You know how whenever you know exactly what you are looking for, you can never find it? That’s exactly what happened to me. In the end I decided I would just buy the first pair of comfortable flats available in my midget size that wouldn’t look totally ridiculous. The shoes I bought were actually not too bad. Simple brown and white trainers. Not really my style but honestly, not that bad. They have served me well these past 7 months. They have carried me all over the city. But now their time has come. I have worn them out to their very last breath. The soles are cracked and the fabric looks ragged. May they rest in peace. They’ve earned it.

Enter the dragon's den

Okay guys, I am going to need your help. I know there is a bunch of you brilliant minds out there reading this blog and I need to pick those big brains of yours!

My course has now moved on to the final assignment before our individual research projects: The Business Plan Competition. As the name suggests we have to spawn a new business idea and then develop it into a full blown business proposal. The second part is what the course has been training us for so I won't ask you to be bothered about that. The first part is where I can really use your help though. Any suggestions, no matter how wacky, are welcome. Of course I personally am most interested in anything health or (bio)science related but anything outside of that is good too. (Just keep in mind I have to get up in front of a panel of judges and sell the idea to them so please don't make me look like a total fool...) Ever thought the world could really use that new gadget you thought up? Ever felt your scientific results deserved to be converted into a real product? Tell me now.

The only thing at stake here is the glory (& a good mark for me) so I can't promise you a cut in any future profits. There won't be any. The best I can do is get your name on the credits. I know that isn't much but the main prize is my eternal appreciation... We need to present our "elevator pitch" on Friday next week so please start sending me those suggestions as soon as they pop into your heads. I'll keep you updated!


P.S.: I understand there is such a thing is corporate confidentiality and I wouldn't want anyone to get in trouble for 'selling off' their trade secrets. The Business Plan Competition is strictly an internal affair though and your secrets will be save with me. Maybe e-mail them to me rather than post them here if you have any concerns.