There's a Lot O' Sweet Fuck All Between Yarmouth and Hamifax...

As is always the case, stepping onto East Coast soil made me feel like I'm home. We landed in Yarmouth last night, took a trip to Tim Horton's (after a 3 day deprivation period), and enjoyed our coffee in the salty air. I love the East Coast. Maybe its because I grew up on the CBC.

Sandra, Burton and I have been on the road a long time. We had a great drive through Maine the last couple of days, which included a stop in Freeport, and Hessels' premier visit to the L.L. Bean store. Good times.

We had a critical error in judgement last night, however, when we got off the ferry. "Sure we can drive to Hamifax", we figured, "its only 3 hours, and that means we won't have to drive tomorrow". However, we didn't factor in a) how tired we were, b) how we didn't *really* know how to get there, and c) that driving in the dark with nothing around gets old really fast.

There is nothing between Yarmouth and Hamifax. Nothing. No farm lights. No other cars. Nothing.

I almost fell asleep behind the wheel at 10:30. This resulted in an exchange of driving duties. Sandra almost fell asleep behind the wheel at about 12:00, again resulting in a driving exchange. You know what would have helped? Something. ANYTHING to look at.

We got to Drunk Nikie's place by 2:00, however. And its been nothing but gold ever since. Off to Wolfville today to help Hessels start her new life. I'll be back on this thing on Tuesday.

Oh... and for those of you who have texted me... sorry... it hasn't been working. I'm not really that negligent. I'll hopefully get my damn phone up and running again sometime today.

Vermont is Like Pleasantville...

Everything is beautiful and meticulous, but all of the people feel... well... a little off. I feel like we're always getting strange looks.

Sandra has long hair. It looks good. A little too good.

Unfortunate Gatorade experiences

Sadly, we are sitting and waiting to find out whether or not our last flight will go. If the weather doesn't clear by 10 (and it doesn't look like it will), then we are going to book it home. That sucks. BUT, on the upside, they are booked to go up again in October. I have already put my name in, and it looks like I may just be able to come back.

So here we are, sitting around with our laptops for the next hour and a half. Should I work? Hell no. I'll blog.

Seeing as I was actually high for some of my previous posts, let me recall some highlights from the past couple of days.

These guys have all the Gravitational records for all of the parabolas completed to date. We actually hit negative Gs a couple of times. And, at one point, we hit 2.9Gs. That is commensurate with what the astronauts feel in the shuttle during takeoff.

Yaniv puked. A lot. And seeing as we were essentially sharing a seat, it was a bit disconcerting for me. In fact, during our second flight (and after downing a bottle of lime gatorade), I became extremely concerned when I hear
a) wretching, followed closely by
b) "Oh No"
I was pretty sure that this meant he had missed the "Boarding Pass" (ie vomit bag). Fortunately, it did not hit me. However, when we landed there was a lot of flourescent green on the floor.

Then, as we're driving home (and I'm driving like a Banshee because I'm high on life), Yaniv all of the sudden says "SLOW DOWN", followed quickly by "STOP THE CAR". I'm confused, start slowing to a stop, but not fast enough. At least it was only water at this point. Poor kid. Boy, has he been razzed over the last couple of days. Good on him for not only taking it in stride, but laughing with us the whole time.

On Monday night, I got to go visit the Eatons and their newest member, Molly. Is she ever cute. I can't believe how much she looks like Abby Jane did at that age. And Abby Jane is just getting cuter than ever. I can't believe how much her vocabulary has grown since I saw her last. Here we are sitting on the couch before we dragged Mom out for a couple of hours:



As we had the day off yesterday, we went to the movies. We went to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory in the afternoon... and what a fantastic movie. Definitely better than the first one, and I would actually put it on par with the book. It was even better watching it with a bunch of kids-in-the-bodies-of-men (i.e. these guys). Lots of laughs... and the line "You're MUMBLING! I can't understand you" has been used at least 74 times since yesterday.

I went back to the hotel to pick up Lynne. Got my email back up and running (its handy having the system adminstrator staying in the hotel room beside you!), over to the pub for some afternoon relaxation, then back to the theatre to watch the 7 o'clock showing of The Island (loosely... I repeat loosely... based on Logan's Run). It was entertaining, but very easy to pick apart in terms of inconsistencies and bad science. Which always provides interesting conversation fodder for the walk back home with a bunch of geeks. Good times.

So its been a good weekend. And it will prove to only get better once I meet up with Hessels for Roadtrip: Hamifax this evening. And I must sign off with this photo, showing us newly indoctrinated flyboys in the hangar:



Goddamn I love my job.

Day #2 Down

After a large and greasy breakfast, we just finished our 3rd run. Apparently, if you substitute eggs with tomatoes, the large greasy breakfast satiates stomach nausea. I didn't even feel my stomach turning this time. Kevin disagrees. But there was no puking this time 'round. The breakfast stays on the tee ;).

Unfortunately, the final flight has been cancelled because of weather (we actually hit turbulence for our last 2 parabolas). So now we're stuck in Ottawa for the afternoon, waiting for our final flight tomorrow morning at 8am. That means for a hell of a trip to Buffalo for me tomorrow.

We just watched the Shuttle Launch (streamed online) though. These guys have a vested interest because apparently they are tentatively scheduled to have this experiment go up 2 launches from now.

How cool would that be?

Day #1 Down

8 parabolas. I didn't puke. In fact, these last 4 were awesome. Some people puked. At least it didn't land on me.

I can't wait to do this again tomorrow.

Parabola #1: Down

Holy fucking fuck in the blue hell and the fuck!!!! That was the COOLEST thing ever. Still alive!!! Didn't puke.

0G kicks ASS!!!

2G doesn't.

What the Hell Were We Thinking?

We are sitting in the flight hanger. T Minus 60 minutes.

I had an epiphany this morning that has alleviated my anxiety and refreshed my excitement. As we were driving onto the flight base, I realized that flying in 0G will be the closest I will ever come to living my childhood dream... being an astronaut. Not only will this be the closes but probably closer than 99.9999% of the population will ever experience. Ubercool.

Unfortunately, said anxiety HAS returned, as we just finished our crewmember briefing for the vomit comet. It started out pleasant enough, with one of the systems engineers describing the plane, how we have to watch out for sharp corners, etc. Then we had to start signing stuff. And giving Next of Kin information. And being advised of our life insurance converage, as life insurnace won't pay for accidents incurred during so-called "experimental flights".

A little shaken, we are taken down for a tour of the vomit comet. It's quite small. And, smells like vomit (but not apparently as bad as the one in Houston). Apparently, puking in the plane happens all the time. Jim (one of our shop guys and also the spotter in the plane) was describing last night (over Turbo Shandys... was that a good idea?) how incredibly uncormfortable it is to have puke floating around during multiple G phases. info that may be of use: the best thing to do when you puke in 0G is to shake your head. Move it around a bit.

I got to test out the emergency door. it worked. But as we were not given parachutes, I'm not sure how this will be of any relevance.

It was also a little unsettling when the Flight Engineer showed us the back room in the plane (which looks like a set from a movie, with aluminum foil and tubes everywhere), and described it as "relatively" safe. Yes, he did air quotes with his hand. Not somethining you want to see.

OK... the fuel system is up and running. We're going in. Kevin is sending one final lovey email to Carrie. We have gone into the plane for a dry run in our preassigned seats with our preassigned terminals. I just discvoered I will be facing Yaniv when I die.

Wish me luck.

You can also check Kev's blog for his pre-flight thoughts.

Do You Brits Feel About the Spice Girls as We Do About Celine Dion?

This question ended up in the amalgamation of one more peron to our group for the night. I have never seen a random person laugh as hard as he did when Lynne posed that question to Michelle and Simon. Good Times.

I'm blogging over 2 evenings right now. As such, things will be succinct. But there are pictures.

My first question: Pete, why do you not have comments allowed on your joke blog I wonder? Afraid we might trump you with better ones? I heard a couple tonight that you may want to hear (e.g. A sadomasochist beastial nechrophiliac walks into a clinic for help. The psychiatrist's response: "You're flogging a dead horse". Gold baby, gold.

Last night my Mom asked us what the word lugubrious meant. I had no fucking clue. Lynne, however, not only knew the meaning of the word, but demonstrated, Turbo Shandy and all:



Then Aimee got drunk and decided to drink spilt beer of my parent's picnic table:



it's a wonder I'm allowed home anymore.

We drove back this afternoon, after my mom (being the planning crafter that she is), mapped out Hessels' and my trip to Hamifax (where my expression is, as is always the case with Eva...Whafuck??):



We went out tonight with Simon to say goodbye before he leaves for UCL Turns out I may see him again though. I hope so. Although we still had a great time celebrating with Karaoke. Here's Lynne, with my favorite impression (of Sweaty Pet that is...)



Michelle was there for awhile, but had to go home due to a long, long week:



I really wish I knew what I was talking to her about at this point because it looks really, really interesting. We finally ended up karaokeing, much to Simon's appreciation. I sang Brian Wilson for him. A good Canadian song. Here are Lynne, Me and Simon in the pub, having a gay old time.



Good times.

Sorry for all the pictures and the lack of amusing commentary, but I'm feeling decidedly uncreative right now, and have adopted the age old motto "A Picture Speaks a Thousdand Words".

And if anyone is trying to email me, sorry: my email is down. I'll try and grab email on Tuesday (when I'm back from Ottawa),

Peace.

Multiple Chinese Authors

Well, Lynne and I are sitting in Avonton and waiting for Aimee to arrive. Eva has made us supper, and there is a small chance we may check out the beer tent (i.e. St. Marys fair) this evening. Should be fun. We decided to bring the Turbo Shandy experience to rural Southwestern Ontario... Don's reaction was "huh...tastes like beer". Eva said she was off drinking... except for Scotch and water (?)

Today was the LAST DAY OF TALKS THAT I HAVE TO GOTO IN A LONG TIME. Brilliant. It is also the first day of my "vacation" (where vacation includes 3 days of 0-G testing and then driving to Hamifax).

The funniest line from today came from my British friend Dan. One of the speakers was talking about the "problem" of multiple authorships, especially in the biomedical and physical sciences. He put up a pubmed paper example. It was a Chinese group and the paper had something to do with electron physics. There were 60+ authors, many of which shared the same last name. Dan's whispered comment:

"That's a lo' o' Wangs"

I had the giggles for at least half an hour after. I'm 30+, and I am officially referred to as "Dr. Anderson". Will there EVER be a day where I will no longer giggle hysterically in talks?

Ornithochoreography

So, we're standing outside and waiting for a bus to go to a bar downtown. The conversation is flowing along: we are discussing how beautiful the East Coast is. So lovely, in fact, that one will see wild turkeys crossing the road while driving. Apparently, when Amy and Lynne were in Massachusetts a few years ago, they saw a wild turkey barrelling down a hill. Lynne decided to demonstrate.

Fucking funniest thing I've ever seen. Lynne, standing on Bathurst, pretending to be a wild turkey going full force down a hill. Complete with gobbling sound effects.

Oh, and apparently wild turkeys that tumble down the side of the hill have jazz hands.

My sides hurt.

Trip Planning

The following excerpt comes from an organizational email from Hessels for planning our cross-country trip next week:

"...I don't mind going a bit out of the way. The only thing to keep in mind is that I have somewhat less than 2300 free miles on the truck - I use up more than 750 getting to Buffalo and I need some to get from Wolfville to Hamifax [note: I choose not to correct the typo - I like it like that]. Anyway, it should be fine as long as we don't go too nuts with the milage..."

Thy shall be christened. Hamifax.

Hee hee.

For God's Sake, Change Your Monitor Resolution Hessels!

How can you operate on such a low resolution? Maybe you need a stronger prescription.

We are in the midst of yet ANOTHER 'conference' where I must listen to other people talk about their science, while getting nil done on my own. However, this workshop has been substantially more interesting than the past couple of conferences I've been to. Although each of the talks is an hour and a half... so its really, really long.

Yesterday was awesome. One of the speakers was Tony Norcia, who I kind of perceive as the Indiana Jones of vision science. He does really sexy VEP work with both infants and adults. Its really nice seeing someone who uses a technique to its full functional capacity. Christine, he has done some work with cross-orientation suppression and sweep VEPs that we may want to look at. I've decided that if I do another PostDoc, I'm going to seriously consider applying to work with him in San Francisco.

The other talk that blew me away yesterday was by Gord Legge, who does psychophysical work on reading in patients with low vision. Why is he interested in this? Because he has low vision himself. In fact, with corrected vision, he operates around 20/1000. There were 2 reasons I was so impressed. First because the research was fucking cool. Reading psychophysics is not something that I have been exposed to, but I think that I am going to do some more research into it. Nikie, you may be very interested in some of the training work that he has done. The other (even more impressive) reason is because the guy studies vision science, and he's almost blind. I seriously don't know how you can do that. As vision researchers, we basically design our studies based on what we see. Verbally describing a second-order motion stimulus, for example, is nearly impossible. So how can this guy do such fantastic work without being able to see what his subjects see? And how does he read his graphs? Seeing him talk has made me realize I probably whine too much.

Finally, Laurence Harris talked today. His lab is the lab that is running the parabolic flight that I'm going up on this Monday. After seeing his talk, I finally understand why I've fucked Richard's data up so much... apparently, there is no affect of gravity on my vision, and this is very, very weird. Everybody's vision is partially dependent on gravitational cues... except mine. Apparently I may be some sort of weird anomoly of a person who is completely dependent on visual information. This may explain why I fall over so much. It may also be cool because I should be unaffected by the zero-G environment, whereas everyone else will be profoundly affected. We shall see.

OK... I've Geeked out. I've got to stop going to conferences. Sorry to the 99% of you that read through this whole thing and didn't give a shit. I promise to be more interesting next blog.

Memoirs from Four Politically Incorrect Smalltown Smokers

At last I am home, and am using my own computer. As such I can now download all my pictures. Some of them are good. Some of them, not so much. But each I believe captures the flavour that was 'Montreal 2005'.

We laughed, we cried, some of us sweat through all their t-shirts and had to buy more (Pete, I'm looking at you). And boy, am I tired. It's been an emotional rollercoaster, having frank discussions of corn fields, rodent jaws and flied lice. The air was blue, as we are all truly small town and swear like motherfuckers. I am also amazed at how my "Canadian Accent" comes out when I'm among my own. Jeesus Fucken Chryst... I'm speekin' like a fucken ruraller agaeen. Lovin' it.

So here are pictures from the first couple of nights...which I have already blogged about and won't bore you more. Here we are out at an Aussie bar for my birthday on Crescent St. (which isn't a crescent so much as its a street). First Aimee and Lynne:



And me and Pete (note the Turbo Shandys):



This was really the beginning of the end, and we were only in town for about 6 hours at this point.

In true form, the McMaster people were the last to leave the conference centre the next night, as there were beers served at the conference, and actually leaving required effort on our behalf. We ended up drinking in the parking lot for a full hour after the conference finished:



After getting our shit in gear, we finally ended up at an Irish Pub on Crescent. It was great... we were able to take over the entire bar. We accomplished this by being inordinately loud and incredibly obnoxious... everyone who would come in 'our' room would leave after about 5 minutes. This photo is centred on Sammy.



The next night, we closed the parking lot again at the conference centre. Here I'm spanking Sweaty Pete while being propped up by Shovelrod:



After this fiasco, we ended up down on Prince Arthur with the Roberts' lab going to a (nonlicensed) Greek restaurant. Skye purchased some beer to bring inside... and here's Judy enjoying one on the street before we headed inside:



This was one of our biggest mistakes. We weren't served food in the restaurant for a full 2 hours, and we were pretty fuckin' hungry. However, when the food WAS served, Aimee chose to serve the role as Larry's concubine:



I'm thinking Festschrift photo.

We also saw Jason Leboe, and were reminded of the infamous 'Quebec City 2001' BBCS trip with Jason (sausage), Lynne (ShovelRod) and myself (Klassi), where we got hammered at St. Hubert's and spent our road trip mostly talkin' 'bout 'ginas:



We spent most of the last day at the conference, which was probably appropriate. Pete and I got royally fucked by the cab driver in the morning, who was apparently retarded. Our cab ride cost us $26, while every other cab ride was less than $14. At one point, our cab was actually driving out of the city before wrapping back around to get to the university. I've never been screwed by a cabbie, and I vow never to be again. We did take the subway home though, where Lynne demonstrated some of her dancing abilities:



For the evening, we went to a conference organized Jam session for about 1.5 hours at a bar by the university, booked it, and ended up at the Casino until 3. I spent exactly $3.75 on the slots before I cashed out (I'm a pretty conservative gambler, which I think serves me best). Lynne borke even, Aimee (who was the least thrilled about the gambling) lost $20, and sweaty-fucking-Pete ended up winning $200. Here is a (surreptitious) photo of Pete and his bucket o' coin in the casino:



We had to pull him away from the blinking lights and over-abundant oxygen. The cab ride was on Pete though, and that rocked. He also bought us late-night snacks. When we got to the Retard Store (I actually don't know what it is called by anyone outside of the 4 of us), we started rummaging through snackfood.

And this is where we saw the most disgusting thing of all. In the slushie section, there was a novel flavour of slushie. That flavour? Cheddar. We literally stared at it for a couple of seconds, trying to process the concept of a cheese-flavoured ice-drink. But there was no mistake. It was called cheddar. It was the colour of cheddar. And there was a picture of fucking cheese on the front. Absolutely nappy.

Lynne had her talk this morning (after 1 hour of sleep). You would never know she had the problems she did, she did a fabulous job as always. We hopped in the car after that and headed home... turned out to be the longest trip home ever. I'm not sure why (well, we stopped a lot), but at least it was with good company.

And now I must go to bed. To prepare for my workshop tomorrow. What a great trip.

Thanks guys.

Welcome to the world of blogging Sweaty Pete.

Goodnight.

Everything is Spanich

More quotes:

"How often is it that you walk off an elevator and land smack dab in a group of land-locked synchronized swimmers mid-routine?" (Skye, 05: after we walked off an elevator and landed smack dab in a group of land-locked synchronized swimmers mid-routine).
"Our meds are bade" (Stewart, 05)
"Its like shopping at Holt Renfrew: I really like everything but I can't take any of it home." (Honey, 05: after sharing an elevator ride up to our room with the Ukranian Water Polo team, and down with the Romanian Water Polo team)

We are almost done. Tomorrow Lynne has her talk... poor kid has had one hell of a time with it. She:
a) Forgot it in Edmonton
b) Rewrote it on Thursday afternoon while the rest of us slept
c) Lost it again when her computer pooped out last night
d) Found it in an email
e) Pooched it up trying to copy onto Pete's flash drive
f) Fucked it up burning it onto a CD

She finally has it retrieved from her email and is now frantically writing it out in our hotel room as we speak.

Went out to Prince Arthur street last night for Greek. There were about 58 of us. I was bar hopping, as the Mac people were in the Greek restaurant and the York people were in the bar across the way. Judy Shedden was funny as hell, and Aimee Skye was feeding calamari to Larry Roberts. It was scary.

We are off to the jam tonight. Pete is done his talk... it was very good. Methinks that celebrating should be done. We are tentatively planning on hitting the casino after the bar closes.

Pete's ingrown hair on his leg is "driving him fucking nuts." Poor princess.

I figure that I have cut about 17 years off my life in the last 2 weeks.

Turns out: the French word for Kiosk...

is kiosk.

Other selected quotes for the evening:

"Pete, You're pissin' out your pores" (Skye, 2005).
"A little less intestinal motility would be good" (Hannah, 2005: after he was asked if he needed anything from waitress)
"The 5 year olds would get cluster-fucked" (Skye, 2005).

See the thing with the turbo shandys is that you have to bring a note pad to write funny shit down when its said.

Man, I've got good pictures to post when I get home.

We ended up at a Irish Pub called "Hurleys" this evening, screaming "Fuck NO!" in a Scottish accent more times than I care to remember. Get a bunch of academics together, the collective IQ becomes that of a 12 year old boy. We ended up playing "Degrees of separation", which was a game we started in graduate school. The goal is to link two actors together through other actors that each has worked with in another movie.

Example: Link Morgan Freeman with Christian Slater.
(ans: Morgan and Brad Pitt (Seven)-- Brad and Christian (True Romance)

We got the best possible link so far: I pose this challenge to you:

Link Whoopi Goldberg with Russell Crowe.

This one took us about an hour and a half.

Oh, and I had my poster today. It was really uneventful.

Roadtrips and Pachyderms

You know how you go on a roadtrip and end up with a bunch of "in-jokes" that get lost because they get forgotten? God Bless blogging. Here would be a few of the key quotes from our day of driving from the T-dot to Frenchland (note: some quotes will be explained, but others would be lost in translation):

a) "I've got to wash my skanky hand, and get pie" (Honey, 2005).
b) "I'm not getting on your fucking fruit boat" (Skye, 2005: after seeing a sign with an (obvious) basket, which Aimee interpreted as being a boat).
c) "I believe I'm going to call in to work fat tomorrow".
d) "Are the meat sweats like the cod sweats?" (Pete, 2005 (He's a Newfie))

Good times.

It's 3:00, back from the bar after a bunch of "Turbo Shandys". Those went over REAL well with the folks. I thought Pete and Lynne were being sarcastic when they BOTH said "This is the best fucking thing I've had in my life." Turns out, not sarcastic. Several Smirnoffs were purchased after my initial request.

We've also decided to go for a tattoo run. The others have several. I do not. Will I finally have the tattoo that I've been hankering for after this conference trip? Stay tuned to find out...

Okay...I will not Drink Beer

There goes that little epitaph. Damn those people. But I am still *relatively* sober, and that must mean something.

I figured that this deserved blogging though. Michelle is excited about the football game that she is going to the Dome to watch tomorrow. And rightfully so. We then got onto the excitement of watching live sports. Hockey (of course) came up... I mean you can't live in Canada for a year without going to a live game. Experiencing the smell of the ice, the sound of the buzzer as it blares across the arena, the taste of rink nachos, the rancour of hockey moms as they scream profanities at the officials. That just smacks of high school for me.

I then mentioned that we have to go and watch a lacrosse game. I've never actually been to a live game, but I have heard very, very good things. Lacrosse is a fantastic sport. Both "Psycho" and "DrL" (I didn't use your real names folks) were all razzing on it though... DrL started saying that it was a cross between baseball and basket-weaving (I guess because the stick includes a basket). Michelle started laughing and mocking our national sport. "What kind of country has a national sport that can be described as basket-weaving?" She says.

This is after she has given me my birthday present, "True Brits" by J. R. Daeschner. Here's the FIRST THREE SENTENCES on the back cover:

"When JR Daeschner first witnessed cheese rolling, he was astounded. As an American who had lived in the UK for years, he knew the British could be a bit eccentric. However, nothing could prepare him for the sight of men--and women--flinging themselves off a grassy cliff in pursuit of a cheese."

I mean really. Do I have to introduce the pot to the kettle here? [sidebar... I was introduced to the concept of cheese rolling by DrLove who actually comes from the town o' cheese rolling. Essentially, a large wheel of Double Gloucester cheese is thrown down a hill and a bunch of drunkards go chasing after it. Apparently, the cheese has no purpose in this race. And people have actually died chasing said cheese]. Or how about the fact that DrL and I are going to England a day early so that we can go to Bonfire Night, where the Brits actually throw fireworks at icons of the Pope in an attempt to burn him in effigy?

And Lacrosse seems silly? Oh Michelle, I can't wait to introduce you to a Lacrosse player. Let's just say...they fill out the uniform nicely.

Brief Birthday Recap

I'm almost completely over my hangover. Almost. Right now I'm just a little weak-kneed. For a recap of the celebrations, check out Michelle's blog (You can check out the photos in the 'Capturing' sidebar, with the July parties). Seeing as most of it is a bit fuzzy for me still, I'm not going to rehash the night, as she has done such a foine, foine job. Although she neglected to mention our new friend, the leprauchan. He's good shit... made us laugh 'til we cried. GFTs.



Also, I got 'Happy Birthday' sang to me not once, not twice, not thrice, but 6 times. Yes, 6. Three of those times would be in the bar. Kudos to everyone who was able to get the rest of the bar to sing along as well.

Now off to a Summerlicious dinner.

I will not drink.
I will not drink.
I will not drink.

I've got to prepare for Montreal instead.

A Lifetime in A Morning...

It feels like I've lived through an entire year since this morning. Shit always seems to happen all at once, doesn't it? Of course, coming in to find that the Underground has been bombed is never a nice way to start off the day. Everyone who I have talked to, however, does not appear to have anyone lost in the tragedy. Ryan is fine, as are all of his friends. Not that there was a big chance he could have been there... but then when something like this happens you are always reminded of how small the world really is.

Then I heard from my friend's husband... turns out she may not be OK either. The MRI came back abnormal, and consistent with a substantial neurological disorder. That's not good.

But on a good news front... one of my friends/labmates just got engaged! And she was only dating the guy for 3 weeks. See mom? There's hope for me yet!

All topped off with a 2.5 hour lab meeting that resulted in me having to get an fMRI experiment running for 2 weeks today. How in the hell am I going to get that done? Especially when I'm in Montreal for 5 of those days?

Its been a day that things have been put in serious perspective however, and I'm not going to stress.

I Feel Like McShit

I vowed several years ago (after reading Fast Food Nation in2002 as a matter of fact) that I would never, ever eat at McDonald's again. This has been a hard and fast rule (except for 6+ hour road trips and ONLY for breakfast), until tonight. I had to break down and buy some Mickey D's.

Unfortunately, I just spent the evening in the Emergency Room with a friend of mine. Now, it seems that she is going to be OK (and I'm going to feel like an even BIGGER ass if she isn't), as she got her appetite back around 8:00 pm. Her husband and I of course ask "Well, what would you like to eat?" Her response, "A Quarter Pounder."

I realized around the same time that I had forgotten to eat today. Anything. Only coffee. So I realized I was going to have to eat as well. And this is one of those situations where you just don't trump her request... she's been sitting in the Emergency Room all day. It would kind of be like telling someone on death row they weren't allowed to request fried chicken for their final dinner.

So off to McDonald's we go. I can handle it, I think.

I got the McChicken Sandwich. With Fries. And I ate the whole darned thing.

I feel like absolute pants. Ass, if you will. I've felt like vomiting since 9 (its past midnight now). How do people eat this shit? How in the hell did Morgan Spurlock get through a month? These questions (along with a hefty helping of triglycerides) have been racing through my mind for several hours.

Message to the Surgeon General: Fuck the anti-smoking and drinking warnings. McDonald's is what's going to kill you.

My Physiotherapy

Today was my second-to-last appointment with my physiotherapist... next Wednesday he moves to Nova Scotia (sigh). I think I'm going to recommend to Nikie and Hessels that they strategically damage a joint or something so that they can make an appointment.

So, I'm not sure if its his idea of a sick joke or something, but today I got the weirdest exercise yet. Up until this point, my quad strengthening exercises have been normal... wall squats, curls, leg presses and the like. Things that I can go into the gym and do myself.

After my massage today though, he was excited to show me my *new* balance excercise. This involved:
a) a balance board
b) a trampoline, and
c) a small medicine ball
My first reaction: Whafuck?

The exercise involved standing on ONE LEG on the balance board (not an easy task in and of itself), throwing the ball into the trampoline (which was tilted at a 45deg angle) and then catching it. I'm not quite sure why the ball throwing is involved... seems like a bit of a sick joke really. I was able to pick it up pretty quickly, but for someone who is not used to catching a ball I'm sure that this little exercise would be quite emotionally damaging.

And Kevin, where were you today? My Nonlinear Dynamics experience didn't feel complete (i.e. I didn't have anyone to copy notes from in the back row). I felt so lost and alone.