H. Granger's Journal

February 2003

Sunday, February 2, 2003

10:32 AM

Yesterday I visited the IFTS Health Center trying to buy a packet of mistletoe harvested at the dark of the moon, for the obvious contraceptive benefits. They have wonderful subsidized prices, but these were somewhat offset by the woman working at the desk, who insisted on calling me "honey" and whispering to me about where to hide my mistletoe when someone else walked in. I really dislike not being treated as an adult, especially when I'm obviously engaged in a responsible adult activity.

Monday, February 3, 2003

8:44 PM

Long chat with Cho in the fire today. She's having awful issues with a man who's just left her Quidditch team (yes, there are beautiful, intelligent women in professional Quidditch-- but not near Viktor). Clearly the boy cannot make up his own mind. I pointed out to her that yes, everyone falls hard eventually, even those of us who would wish to pretend perfect equanimity in all situations. Sadly, this is less than reassuring advice.

Saturday, February 8, 2003

3:53 PM - My Text Has No Respect For Me

There are many reasons to be irritated by Fraleigh's A First Course in Abstract Algebraic Thaumaturgy, but the jolly advice "Never underestimate a result that counts something, even if it is only called a corollary" is not the least among them.

9:05 PM

The IFTS held a Grand Ball tonight. In agreement with the general spirit of the Institute, which is archaic even among the archaic (save of course for the actual research), all of the dances were English or Scottish country dances at least a century old. Given my personal inability to concentrate on a dance-- I usually wake up halfway through my reverie on some thaumaturgical problem, realizing that I'm supposed to be twirling across the room-- I avoided actually participating. I put on some nice velvet robes, though, and helped Ron transport food to the event. This was markedly slowed by the incompetence of the ghostly charioteer who was supposed to be assisting . . . Ron is attempting to get the man fired (if one can fire a ghost) even as I write. His rage (Ron's, that is) was rather impressive.

Spent some time on a balcony above the dance, though, watching the patterns form and disintegrate. (And the inevitable small child in sweet yellow robes messing everything up.) Ron ranted at some girl, meanwhile, of course.

9:27 PM - More Reasons to Despise Fraleigh

"Once more, we are characterizing a concept in terms of mappings." (p. 449)

What on earth does the man think his readers believe arithmancy is? Adding columns of numbers?

Monday, February 10, 2003

3:01 PM

I received a letter from my maternal grandfather today. Like most of my correspondence with my grandfather, it contained a cheque, though he rather dulled the excitement by informing me that he supposed I had much rather receive a cheque than a letter. This strikes me as rather unfair, considering the general rate of my correspondence; on the other hand, he seemed to be excusing himself for writing a boring letter. Letters from my grandfather have great potential, as they generally feature reminiscences about fighting in Burma during the Second World War. However, this one was more of a lecture on the way my career goals differ from those he espoused at my age, and how he worked hard so that his grandchildren could have more opportunities. Naturally I keep the exciting parts of my life from my grandfather-- he believes that I'm studying mathematics somewhere that isn't Oxford, and is rather unimpressed-- but I do feel he is disingenuously forgetting what his own children were doing at my age. To be precise, they were pursuing degrees in dentistry and biochemistry, respectively. I am hardly the first person in my family to prefer education to capitalism.

On a brighter note, I bought a book today (The Latin Sexual Vocabulary, purely for pleasure reading) as well as some expensive writing paper.

Tuesday, February 11, 2003

3:49 PM

Ron had a "nightmare" last night about the horrible lives of small children deprived of junk food and spent lunch yelling and twitching about it. I refrained from discussing my parents' theories.

Friday, February 14, 2003

7:13 PM

Received many owls about women in professional Quidditch today. Viktor was "let down easy" by his current object of devotion; Cho had an excessively exciting night following a final-goodbye party for the man leaving her team. (I censor the details, as would anyone intelligent who keeps a journal and is remotely acquainted with Fred & George.)

Monday, February 17, 2003

3:56 PM

Rather twitchy today. If Harry were here, I could relax enough to do work; however, Harry would probably try to distract me from studying. Ah, the frustrating irony of the world.

Wednesday, February 19, 2003

4:52 PM

Viktor and Cho are both threatening to visit this weekend. I think the world might explode.

Sunday, February 23, 2003

11:03 AM

Viktor's gone now. The main feature of the visit was his discovery that there are intelligent women at IFTS, though not necessarily involved in professional Quidditch; he was impressed by Cho and Bess Dunstan, both here on weekend visits, as well as Lisa Turpin. Lisa Turpin in particular, actually. She's been strangely popular in recent weeks-- Viktor's at least the third man to demonstrate interest-- but then I had predicted Viktor would be impressed, since she's quiet, bookish, has long dark hair, and all in all exactly the sort of girl he likes.

Unfortunately for Viktor, Lisa's career plans have no room for living in Germany.

Meanwhile, Ron was in London, interviewing for a job next year. He's decided to follow in Bill and Charlie's footsteps and avoid Great Britain for a few years; this interview is for an internship at a wizarding school in Japan. Ron's absence was rather convenient in that I could lend Viktor his room, reducing possible sleeping-on-my-floor strangeness. Ron's extensive poster collection of half- or un-clad women gave Viktor nightmares, though.

And Harry sent me owls throughout the weekend informing me that he was still a bit strange about Viktor's visit. It's very frustrating. Neither Harry nor I is about to hold me responsible for Harry's insecurities, and I know that they have everything to do with the strangeness of his childhood and nothing to do with me; but there's still that edge of distrust, and it makes me uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and self-righteous, to tell the truth. Whom can one place one's faith in, if not a Gryffindor?

Friday, February 28, 2003

12:24 AM

Owl from Viktor. His father, who rarely talks to him, somehow heard about Viktor's travails with meeting intelligent women, and offered to pay for a vacation so he could search for girls. I'm deeply amused.