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Posts Tagged ‘parties’

First off, a tip to the gentlemen readers: Never tell a woman that she looks tired. No matter how sympathetically you think you sound, just don’t do it. Admittedly the 48-hour sleep deficit I’ve been running over the last week isn’t doing wonders for my skin or my abilities to stay focused on the most basic of conversations, but I don’t like for that to be pointed out to me, thankyouverymuch.

The lack of sleep can be attributed to the combination of regular end of term happenings and my bright decision to have taken a week to screw off on the beach. There might have been a largely useless conference as well that served as an excuse to travel. The beach trip got a bit derailed by bad weather and my guilt over ditching my NBV group. So I found the one filthy cafe in the whole town with wifi and spent most of the weekend doing work.

This term has been a blast, and letting myself get swallowed up in it has been quite rewarding.

This week alone I managed to make it to Paris 5 times. On Tuesday and Wednesday, a dear friend from home was in town. It was so nice to catch up with someone who’s known me since college. I also spent a lovely Wednesday morning at the US Embassy getting extra pages sewn into my passport. While it’s kind of cool to have finally run out of pages in a passport, it’s not nearly as excited to be crammed in a standing-room-only waiting area full of immigrant hopefuls and wait for three hours. Note to self: if I ever start thinking I’m anything special, I should make a trip to the US Embassy (actually, any embassy) to bring me back down to size. We then spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city and had an incredible dinner at Bistro Paul Bert.

On Friday I was back in Paris to submit a visa application for a Tier 1 visa for the UK. I started the process back when I had a partner in the UK and definite plans to be there post-graduation. I’m now foot-loose and fancy free, and kinda sour on the whole UK idea and just a tad (read: hugely) resentful about the exorbitant financial investment. But I decided to follow through with the rest of the process in order to have a three year work permit. Now it’s out of my hands; please cross your fingers and toes that the frazzled/overworked/underpaid gods of border control will look kindly upon my application. (I’m not terribly psyched to be working this summer. While the subject matter sounds interesting and I have a well-defined project that will help me transition to a role in my area of interest, I really just want to go home and see my parents and friends, sleep until noon, read books, and eat Mexican food. On the plus side, a ton of people from INSEAD will be in London over the summer!)

On Saturday I stayed out at a trashy Paris club with some high-rollers until 5:30 in the AM, and again until 2:30 AM on Sunday for the Fete de la Musique – a huge street party with music acts on every street corner – with two of my favorite people. Paris in the summertime is completely unrecognizable from the freezing, disgusting Paris I encountered on my first trip there in over NYE. I think I might be loving it, finally.

Now I’m sitting in a cubicle in the west wing, staring at a markerboard with my lengthy to do list.
– edit a business plan for my New Business Ventures class
– practice an investor pitch for a presentation tomorrow
– submit an online poll for mergers and acquisitions. wait, no. j/k. I haven’t submitted one all term. Why would I start now?
– finish a paper on why MASDAR freaks me out
– start a 1000 word mini-paper – topic TBD
– start studying for final exams in Macro and IPA.
– find housing in London

Strangely, writing this post will not make this list any shorter.

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Guy at party: “You know… I feel like I haven’t met any smart people at INSEAD”

Wow.  Really?  This comment is quite interesting to me, so I’d like to break it down:

1) Would a smart person actually say something like this out loud?  Should we assume it was a in fact a really dumb person making the comment.  He came to INSEAD (from a small northern European continental nation that will remain nameless) hoping to be uplifted to a higher intellectual level by his fellow classmates and he’s lamenting the fact that people here are just as dumb as he is.  It’s a possibility.  

2) He really hasn’t met any smart people.  Perhaps he is quite antisocial and has so far only had conversations with 5 people on campus.  Assuming a binomial distribution and given the sample size of 5 and assuming the incidence of dumb people on campus as 1 in every 25 (to be generous), we can use the big scary tricky formula that Theos would rather you not use because you’re in business school and fomulas are confusing (and you should just use the z-table even though you have no idea what it means…) to determine that the chances of our protagonist not having met a smart person in the 5 he socialized with is 5!/(0!)(5!) x (1/25)^5 x (24/25)^0 or simply (1/25)^5 – so quite small.  Once Theos confuses us (and himself) about confidence intervals we’ll be able to say how safely we can rule out the possibility that our friend hasn’t met any smart people.  

 3) The third possibility is that our friend has not yet figured out that ‘smart’ and ‘good at business’, while not mutually exclusive, do not overlap entirely – and someone who can’t rock UDJ can perhaps coordinate a huge deal involving 5 countries.  Since he thinks himself to be quite smart, perhaps someone ought to show him a Venn diagram to further explain how this could be so.  

PS.  You’re welcome for the UDJ review.

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I really don’t like costume parties and masquerades.  I’m not sure why this is.  I have this group of friends who lives together.  Every year start planning for Halloween some 2 months in advance.  They send out elaborately designed invites, and spend months shopping for the costumes that they keep secret until the big night. 

This year I was out of town and so happy to go to see the Traviata at the Met with a like-minded friend rather than dress up for Halloween.  

For girls, costume parties are all about how slutty you can possibly get.  Girl costumes aren’t supposed to be funny or original, unless they’re a package deal with your boyfriend’s costume.  Like, you’re Jeff Goldblum and his dinosaur.  Or a tiger and that guy who got mauled by the tiger.  What the hell was his name? 

When I first heard about the INSEAD dash – a Singapore campus running-across-town-in-costume tradition – I made up my mind that I wouldn’t go to Singapore.  I’ll write more on that sometime, but I’m pretty sure watching the Dash on youtube and checking the pics on facebook will be plenty entertaining for me. 

I know I’m probably making myself sound super lame.  I’m not lame.  I’m ridiculously fun; I just hate costumes.  I hate when the conversation starter is “so, what are you?”  It’s almost as bad as, “so, what do you do?”  [Apparently, this is bad form in the UK.  Bless the British!  How delightful that social protocol dictates what makes for bad small talk!]  And really, there’s only so far a conversation about that Male Camel Toe or Dick in a Box costume can go.  Once you establish what the costume is and share a chuckle, you’re just standing there with a guy with his shorts pulled painfully high up his crotch or a gift-wrapped chorizo attached to his belt.  And that’s awkward.  [Why did he do that costume this year anyways?  That’s so 2007.]

And the worst thing about a costume party?  I’ll tell you: it’s that you can never tell if you’re flirting with an ugly dude because they’re dressed up as ZZ Top or have a lampshade on their head.  

Anyyyyyhow.

DTLF tells me that you don’t get your degree without attending at least 78 of the total 135 costume parties held throughout the year, and I might be in trouble.  

Here’s why:  The week and a half trip to the old country revealed that the Mrs degree may be in-sight.  That sounds tacky.  What I mean is that the boy and I have decided to make it work long-distance during this coming year.  I’m pretty excited about this.  It’ll be nice to have a lifeline, an outside perspective, an escape when my life is going to get otherwise swallowed up by the forest.  Apart from that, it’s nice because he’s just an amazing guy.     

I’m starting to wonder what an LDR (that’s how the kids say long distance relationship) during INSEAD might look like.  I’ve never done long distance.    Prioritizing a relationship during INSEAD might involve being organized about getting work done during the week so I’m not working on the weekends, not using being busy as an excuse not to see each other, figuring out the most flattering lighting for using Skype video and skipping the costume parties in favor of trips on the Eurostar.  Yep, sounds doable!

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