My Hate/Love Relationship with Purolator

I spent this morning waiting for a package from Purolator, which put me at school 6 hours late. This package left its original destination before my birthday (i.e. mid-July), and I finally received it today. 1.5 months after the fact. Speedy delivery my ass. I think that Purolator is the shittiest company that ever existed (well, along with Microsoft, Blockbuster, McDonald's, U-Haul, and Disney). Here's a tip Purolator: don't hire the mentally retarded to deliver packages and/or field calls from people when the package (inevitably) does not arrive. Although I guess the top brass may also be retarded and therefore unable to read this blog.

Last time I dealt with Purolator, it took 6 delivery attempts to get my package. 6. S-i-x. And I had it delivered to the school, which is pretty easy to find. When I didn't get the package, I called the depot and asked where the package was. The lady on the other end of the phone said they *tried* to deliver it, but they had the wrong address. After getting her to read the address that was recorded (which was right), I awaited my package the next day. And the next. And the next. Called back: was told that my office didn't exist. When I tried to tell them I was calling from this magical office, which according to Purolator must have existed in a tear in the space-time continuum, I got yelled at by the Purolator tard. That was the only time I have ever a) used the word "fuck" with someone in the service industry and b) hung up on someone. I got my package the next day, and I learned that a strategically placed swear can get you a little further ahead in life.

Today, I had to wait around for the package for 3 hours after I thought it would be delivered. This damned package has been to hell and back. Sandra delivered it before she moved but forgot to put the apartment number on it, and it was shipped back to her. Luckily this was a couple of days before she moved, so she was able to ship it out again. Unfortunately, and for reasons I'm not quite sure of, she addressed it to herself (at my address). And there could be no return address, as she didn't know her NS address at the time. As it was delivered while I was helping her move, I was unable to sign for the package. And so it was sent to the depot to await pickup.

Unfortunately, to pick it up at the depot, you need to show proper identification. Seeing as I am not Sandra, I did not have said identification. I finally arranged to have it redelivered this morning, which meant that I had to sit in my apartment because providing an ETA with a standard error of +/- 2 hours is well beyond the capabilities of those fuckers.

Now, you may be asking...with such vehemence in her blog tone, how can she have any sort of love for Purolator?

It's because Purolator brings me toys. Good toys. The 6-delivery-attempt-package was actually my iPod, and my excitement for getting Dancin' Pete back from the Apple hospital goes without saying. Happy days were had all around when I got him back.

And today, it was my birthday present from Hessels. Which was a retro-gaming device that you plug directly into your TV to play such classics as Galaga, Pole Position, and Ms. Pac Man. I just tested it out... and it works good. Real good. Much better than the Atari 2600 I ordered for my brother from eBay 4 Christmas' ago. It even looks like the old Pole Position:



And so, while I spent the morning and part of the afternoon cursing Purolator under my breath, I have now been transported to a happier time in life, where the only stresses in life were beating Ryan in Space Invaders, making sure I was in front of the TV for Mr. Dressup, and whether or not we had enough couch pillows to build a fort in the living room.

GFTs.

Playing Hookey is Fun

Once again, I find myself a few days behind on this thing. Oops. Strap yourself in folks... this is gonna be a long one.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, my weekend actually started on Thursday night. I headed down to Hamilton to meet up with Pete and the Skyes and a couple of old friends who were in for the weekend for the Phoenix Cup. Sigh. Just going down to the diamonds was incredibly nostalgic and made me realize how much I miss ball. I would have cried, but Aimee would have mocked me endlessly for years, so I had to choke it back.

After heading back to Pete's to make him not so sweaty, we took off to Boston Pizza for a post-game pitcher (for you Mac alumni, Boston Pizza is now in the old Swiss Chalet that was a block west of NASA). Aimee ended up stealing a full plate of pizza (yes, plate and all) by passing it over the patio wall, thus providing sustanance for later in the evening. Back to the Skye's we go to play Asshole and imbibe a bit more.

See, this is the point where I should have realized there was going to be no way in hell that I would make it into the lab in the morning. I have never been at the Skye's and gone to bed before 4.

After several hours of Asshole, where I didn't grace the Asshole chair even once (thank you, thank you), Aimee disappeared for awhile. Jerry, whose concern was astounding, eventually found her in the bathroom. You can probably guess why. I always wonder: do people laugh at me that much when I'm in such pain? I hope not. But I know I'm only kidding myself. Jerry, being a good husband, left her to fend on her own and joined Pete and I on the patio, only to disclose the reason that he was kicked out of junior hockey (hint: see Pete's Blog title). We finally booked it at about 5:00 am, pretty much insuring that there would be no way I would be in the lab the next morning.

So instead, woke up at 11:00 and spent Friday a) trying the figure out the Skye's stupid coffee-maker, b) on the patio with Pete enjoying said coffee and conversation, c) collecting parking tickets (yes, plural) off of my car, and d) at the batting cages. While I had a good helping of Catholic guilt, I can't think of a better way to spend a day of hookey. It was so worth it. And, I got to swing a bat. Even though my swing is now largely dictated by my upper body. My muscles right now are reminding me of that. After bidding a fond farewell, I headed back into Toronto and met up with LMD for a little bit of shopping for a certain someone's birthday. All in all, one great day.

Saturday also shaped into a fantastic time. Met up with the birthday girl and LMD to head to the Ex in the morning. We had a glorious day of games, perusing vendors, ferris wheels, and livestock. Michelle even capitolized on her birthday to get one of the Carnies to give us 3 of the best hats ever (well, we had to pay 10 dollars and *pretend* that we knew how to throw darts...). We wore the hats for the rest of the day, soliciting many compliments from middle-aged women. Although Michelle did not get on the trampoline, thereby missing a tremendous opportunity to show off her fabulous rack in a bungee suit, I think that we pretty much saw and did everything there was to do at the Canadian National Exhibition. Happy days.

Off home for a well-deserved nap, then off to the birthday girl's for her birthday party. Hats and all. Unfortunely, however, LMD FORGOT her hat (and will now have to make up for it through sexual favours), and Michelle was trying to look respectable for her guests, so I alone was left wearing said hat for the first couple of hours. It did, however, prove to be excellent coverage from the rain. Kevin, Carrie and Stacey also showed up relatively early, and we got to plan a) Stacey's birthday, and b) the bus that Kevin is going to rent for a good ol' fashioned roadtrip to Oktoberfest. Weekends are now pretty much booked through November. Whew. Finally, Michelle became not sober enough to don her hat:



LMD was on call, and unfortunately had to leave early. Boo. Although it turned out that a lack of sleep, lack of food, and nonlack of beer put me home relatively early as well... I was actually home by 1:15. Which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing, as I don't remember getting home too well.

And so that left today to work, clean, grocery shop and cook. It's actually been a pretty productive day... Christine's Code (hereby known as CC) is nearly done, my apartment smells fresh as the summer rain, and my fridge is fully stocked. And so I'll end off the night cooking stirfry, outlining the discussion for the manuscript I promised Hugh for Friday, and anxiously awaiting word as to whether or not anyone actually won the Phoenix Cup.

Float On...

Well You Know My Name Is...

This is us saying goodbye to Simon:



This is Simon saying goodbye to us:



Tesco bag and all.

Au revoir mon Amie. Smell you at Guy Fawkes.

When Worlds Collide...

My parents just stopped by the lab to take me out for lunch. Don and Eva are driving back from Newfoundland, where they had many an adventure, as it'were. They loved St. John's. And, they found me a place to live. This seems to be their new hobby: anytime they go somewhere that has a university, they go house hunting for me on the off chance that I might actually get a job one day.

Most people's parents want them to move closer to home. Mine hope that I'll move as far away as possible. I like to think its because they want the excuse to travel, but I recognize this is likely not their logic.

They came down to the lab because both of them are going to be psychophysical subjects in a couple of weeks. Dad because he's 60 now, and can participate in an aging study that Claudine is running: Mom because she has migraines and can do some work for Fran's lab. I can imagine that they are going to walk out of their respective testing rooms and wonder what the fuck it is that their daughter does (likely formulated in the question "She went to school for 10 years to do THAT?".

The best moment came when Hugh came by and I introduced him to my parents. Eva (who as most of you know has absolutely no inhibitions), said "Oh Yes! Hi Hugh! I recognize you from your picture! Nicole made me bookmark you on my computer!" Which:

a) I didn't, and
b) makes me look even crazier/psychotic in Hugh's eyes. Good God that man must think I'm a nutcase.

Meanwhile, Don is just standing there, excited because he's going to make $15 an hour as a subject. He actually cheered (yes, he literally whooped with joy) when he found out he was getting paid to participate. Up until 2 months ago he was an Engineer, and he made a damned good living at it. Now he's excited because he's getting 30 bucks for testing AND a free eye exam.

Yep, retirement is treating them well.

A Full Weekend in Toronto!

I've spent a full weekend in Toronto for the first time since the July 1st long weekend. While I thought I might get restless, I have instead spent my time getting reacquainted with the city, my apartment, my TV, and Eek. Eek is especially happy because she now has someone to sit her fat-ass on all day. Did I mention how fat she is? This may put it in context:



But she's also happy because she has new "hall friends"; Jen and Mark moved in yesterday, and everytime they've popped by, Eek's gotten some lovin' in the hallway. Now she sits at the door wanting to go out because she has learned, in 2 short days, that hallway = petting. What a suck.

I had a fun-packed day yesterday (which started off with me finding a dress for Brett's wedding in under 1/2 an hour, in a store around the corner, that was 75% off... that's my type of shopping!). Met up with Simon at 4 in Kensington market to watch a band in Grafitti's, a great little pub with live music every Saturday afternoos. I've decided that even though Simon may be leaving, we're going to start having "Simon Saturdays" in honour of him. Simon Saturdays will start at 4pm at Graffitti's and will end in the wee hours of the morning singing karaoke at the Duke of Gloucester. Expect an email sometime in September.

From there, we went over to Vicki's for a wonderful Moroccan dinner. Vik got to use phyllo pastry for the first time. She did a great job with the pastry, and made a fantastic tabbouleh for accompaniment. The wine also didn't hurt. Having neighbour friends that cook is likely going to result in an expansion o' me arse... Jen's baking cookies later this week and I'm very excited.

I booked it downtown around 11 to meet up with Stacey and Carrie to go dancing at the Garage. I was pleasantly surprised with the music selection: Guns n' Roses, ACDC, Zeppelin and Run DMC were some of the many nostalgic bands that we got to listen to. Nothing puts me in my happy place faster than a little hard rock. We also saw a chick with hair that would make Medusa turn to stone. It was about 4 times the size of mine (NOT exaggerating...) and teased as all get out. And I don't think she was being ironic. It was creepy.

All in all, a fun and relaxing Saturday. Today has been spent doing very little. Talked to Brett briefly; seems that wedding plans are coming together in a neat little package. I also got a bit more of the skinny on you-know-who's situation in the something something. Poor kid. I don't envy him.

I have a craving for jello right now, so I may have to do something about that.

And Becky has introduced more pictures of Ryan on her blog. Check them out. All Ryan, all the time.

Game's a Good 'Un.

A Listening Assignment

Jen is running a radio show this afternoon at 3:00 on the York station! You can listen to it online HERE. Go to the bottom of the page and goto Listen Live!

Also, my brother is coming back to Toronto September 15th with a couple of Cambridgonians in tow. Book it off your schedules... let us show them how to have a good time here in the T-Dot.

I Am Slowly Going Crazy...

One, two, three, four, five, six,

Switch.

Second full day of MRI testing with my protocol (Hamiltonians: today wasn't conducive for visiting so I didn't call anyone, but I'm planning on starting to come up the night before scan sessions in September... Pete I may ask you to be a subject in early Sept...). We got my first set of data analyzed this week, and shit's looking good. Real good (with an n of 1.5). So today we were scheduled to have 2 more subjects run through my task, one of those subjects being me.

Jen was a trooper. She did all 2 hours of testing, with nary a complaint coming out. Her eyes were open the whole time, and she didn't fall asleep once. If I could give out gold stars for good subjects, she would get about 2486.

I, on the other hand, seem to have some serious issues. I started to have another panic attack AS SOON as I started sliding into the damned thing. I had a full on attack last year in London, which resulted in my data being wasted. Panic attacks in the magnet suck. Suck ass. It's like my heart and head are having an exchange:

[it always starts off with a wave of apprehension covering me and causing my vision to become swimmy]

Heart (beating faster): Why the hell are we in this dark little confined space?
Head (still rational): We're doing an experiment. We're measuring me.
Heart (accelerating): Well how the hell are we supposed to get out?
Head (still rational): Finish the experiment. Then we can leave.
Heart (racing): But what if we can't wait that long? What if the magnet falls on us?
Head (less rational): Well, er....
Heart (Just one big constant beat at this point): WHAT IF WE DID DID WORK WITH METAL AT ONE POINT AND A LITTLE PIECE IS WORKING OUT OF OUR EYES RIGHT NOW?
Head (not rational): Jesus, you may be right...
Heart (physically trying to escape chest): JESUS FUCK IN THE FUCK MOTHERFUCKER I'M SO FUCKING OUT OF HERE!!!!
Head (physically trying to escape skull): The little shit is right! Let's book it!!

Which culminates in me pressing the panic button, and being taken out as a white and shaken mess. I feel like a complete boob. Most people love being in the magnet, whereas I seem unable to control my mental state while in there. I HATE not being in control of myself. HATE.

And the kicker is that afterwards I feel like I've run a 5 hour marathon. I'm absolutely knackered. And, apparently going crazy.

Six, five, four, three, two, one,

Switch.

Lucid Patch Dreams

I'm attempting the patch again. We'll see how this works out. The good news: the lucid dreams have come back. Here's a sample from one I had last night:

I decided to go hiking in the ravine by my apartment here in the Tdot. I was hiking along with a bunch of random people, and we became lost. We were in the ravine for over a week, left to depend on our own devices, building lean-tos, foraging for berries (all in downtown Toronto mind you). At one point, there was a power struggle between some of the community (a la Lord of the Flies). Finally, we were discovered by a rescue helicopter and we were airlifted out of the ravine. To exit the rescue helicopter, I had to parachute out. I landed in my old high school, in the middle of a Tom Petty concert that was being held in honour of my return. I got to play with Tom. My guitar was a bright yellow Gibson.

Its a lot o' fun.

Permit me to Use My Blog for Propoganda for a Second...

Here are two pieces of information I just wanted to pass along.

1. If you have a cell phone, there is a movement right now to add contact information in your cellular "phone book" for emergency contact. You should put your emergency contact phone number under "ICE" (In Case of Emergency). It takes about 5 seconds for you to do, and could potentially save valuable time for paramedics in emergency circumstances. This has apparently become popular in the UK after the bombings last month.

2. When Sandra and I were in Freeport, we went to a pub where a couple of guys were playing some great tunes. You can check out some of their music Here. One of the reasons I was drawn to them was because they do a great Teitur cover. I've never heard tell of anyone who covers Teitur. They also cover Coldplay's best song ever. And the music smacks of old John Mayer stuff. Brilliant.

That is all.

... And I Promise This Will Be My Last Blog Related to 0G

But I do have to pass these on. First, Kevin received a great action shot of Yaniv's experience in the Vomit Comet (08.02.2005).

And we got the Video of us in the plane.

It may not look as exciting as it was, but you can see us about halfway through float up. Also note the change in the sound of the engine of the plane. For you psychology nerds, that would be my Conditioned Stimulus... the first time I heard the rev-up then stalling I got extremely nervous. As I am watching and listening to the video now, I'm fucking pumped. I feel like jumping off a bridge or something. Booyeah!

Wolfville Smacks of Hessels

I'm back in Toronto. After my flight reservation debaucle (i.e. booking a flight for Jan 8 instead of Aug 1), that's a feat in and of itself. And so I'm off to Coldplay tonight (woohoo!!!), thus ending my vacation. There's science to be done tomorrow.

I leave Nova Scotia with complete and utter green-eyed envy of Hessels. She has gone and gotten herself a sweet deal in Wolfville. What an absolutely gorgeous little town. Her apartment is fan-frickin-tastic:



As is the view from her back porch (although she can see the Bay of Fundy from her bedroom window):



You Toronto people would want to throw things if you found out how much she is paying for this little slice of heaven. We were able to move all of her stuff in under an hour (you've got to love helping friends who are minimalists move). Karmen (who has essentially been Hessels' personal assistant in Wolfville the past couple of months) took us for a tour of the town and then had us over for a BBQ at her place. Some of the people in the department that Hessels will be working with were there... again, what a great setup. Just good solid people all around. It was hard to leave.

Good work, Buddy. You deserve it. You are right when you say "Its like they made the whole town up just for me". I think they did.

I spent last night at the Conrads' house after getting a tour of Hamifax with Nikie. Again, great city. Then, off to the airport at 5:00 am (4:00 our time). Its already been a long day.

I sign off with 3 more pictures: Sandra on the Cat:



Sandra's Cat (Burton, being all pensive-like in a chair in White Junction Vermont)



And us in Sandra's apartment.



New Years is going to be sweet.