Hark! Cocktails

This little diddy because the theme quote from San Francisco '05:



While I got back over 48 hours ago, I have not had the verbal capacity to relate our goingons until now. When I should really be doing work. I love being a PostDoc.

Our trip was SanFrantastic. San Francisco is a beautiful city... definitely one of the top three in the entire United States of America. It also didn't hurt that my travel compadres were a hell of a lot of fun as well. We managed to see pretty much all that we wanted (well, LMD (in spirit not body) missed our jaunt into Northern California, but more on that later), while not feeling rushed in the slightest. All in all, signs of a great trip for Anderson.

We landed late Thursday night after a 5 hour flight where the feature film was "Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants". It was pants alright. I promptly fell asleep about 12 minutes into the movie. Michelle, on the other hand, watched the whole damned thing, and even admitted to shedding a tear or twelve at the end. Somebody please remind me never to watch Sophie's Choice with her.

Our hotel (selected by Cleavage herself) was situated in the heart of downtown San Fran, right by Union square, and yet was still affordable. Fantastic. If anyone is heading there in the next little while, the Hotel Beresford is the place to stay. AND... it has a pub attached to it. Next to that is a bar called Whose Your Daddy. Hee hee.

Our first day saw us walking along the waterfront towards the Golden Gate bridge:



which turned out to be an inordinately long haul along a very, very windy stretch of land. The walk was well worth it, though, as approaching the bridge a little bit at a time built up the impressiveness of the structure:



I have to admit that I was a little afraid that I would be disappointed in the bridge, as one always is when first encountering landmarks that are world-famous (Stonehenge... I'm thinking of you). However, the engineer's daughter did show up in the end, and impressed she was. Walking along it and looking back over the city really is something one must do in their lifetime.

That evening, we headed back to our hotel to begin celebrations for LMD's birthday. Bottles of wine, $12 frilly frew-frew drinks (which, I have to admit, were pretty damned good), gin and tonics, beer and more wine led us to a night of debauchery indeed. This was all soaked up by 8 pieces of sushi:



Word to the wise: sushi DOES NOT, I repeat DOES NOT do a substantial job in soaking up inordinate amounts of alcohol. Although this was the best damned sushi I've ever had. Afterwards, we headed 'round the corner to a wine bar to enjoy wine from an authetic wine cellar (which was really cool), and I got to taste my first $16 glass of wine, purchased for us by a nice gentleman at the bar for allowing him to hang his coat on the back of LMDs chair (Mental Note: the next time I get to try expensive wine, make sure to do it BEFORE all taste receptors have been numbed). Yes, a fun night was had all around.

I bounced out of bed the next morning at 7am, excited and raring to go on our daytrip to Napa Valley. Michelle was a little bit more sluggish, and LMD was still drunk. But we rented our car anyway, and off towards Highway #1 we headed, with me behind the wheel. Around the time we were crossing over the Golden Gate bridge, LMD was starting to sober up, and realizing that she wasn't doing that well after all. By the time we hit Highway #1, she was white, shaking under her coat, and repeating over and over again "I"m so fucking hungover. I'm so fucking hungover". Hee hee. Probably didn't help that we drove about 425 354 hairpin turns while taking 45-50 degree hills. Sufficed to say, LMD left a little bit of herself along the side of the highway that day. Apparently, it was pink.

Regardless of LMDs condition, however, that was definitely the coolest driving experience I've ever had. I can't wait to go back and do the whole highway a la Sideways.

We also went out for dinner that night after touring a couple of wineries, but I ended up sick as a dog (cold... NOT hungover), so I had to book it back early for a restful sleep.

The next day saw a decidedly more alert LMD and myself at the Exploratorium, hands down the coolest science museum I've ever been at. Why? Because about half of the place was devoted to vision and vision science. Michelle (after serious amounts of mocking) decided that she was not as nerdy as the two doctors, and instead went for a run along the waterfront. Both LMD and I could have easily spent another 3-4 hours at the museum, but we had a trip to Alcatraz booked for later in the afternoon. As we hopped in the cab to head back to the hotel, the cabbie says "No offense... but isn't that place meant for kids?". Some people just don't get it.

Alcatraz and Fisherman's Wharf was pretty cool too. LMD got in touch with her roots, the Birdman of Alcatraz (third from left):



Yes, it turns out they are related. And ironic, considering that we also discovered on this trip that LMD has an illogical fear of birds. Thus, Birdgirl she will be christened.

Back to the hotel for another wine night, which (after a more substantial dinner this time) ended up in a pyjama party with Michelle jumping on the bed:



Ahhh yes... a good girlie end to a good girlie weekend.

I've been sitting here trying to figure out what we did on our last day. I can't remember AT ALL. Is that a bad sign? Did neurons die? Whoops. I do remember flying home and landing at the ungodly hour of 6am. Sufficed to say, I wasn't that productive in the lab that day. Nor any day since really.

Thus ends our trip to San Francisco. I was hoping that Cleavers would blog first so all that was required of me was some hole-filling-in, but apparently she won't have her pictures up until the weekend. Damnit. She has better (and more) pictures than I do. So be sure to tune in to Cleavers for even more of an update from San Fran '05.

If I were God...

Then last night would have been Sunday, my day of rest. But weeks would also be over 12 days long, and the earth would have been created purely within pubs and concert halls.

I had grandiose ideas of updating this guy last night, but instead fell asleep in front of the TV.

When we saw our heroine last, she was preparing for the British Hat party that she and Michelle were hosting for various Brits. I think that the party was a success... hats, hats and more hats. It was nice to see that the majority of people stuck to the hat theme. In fact, Ryan, Sophie, Becky and James purchased hats in Niagara Falls specifically for the occasion:



I had a larf when Ryan's friends told me that they had drugged him the night before to curb his insane tourist guide tendencies (Nikie, I think you may appreciate this from his guiding habits when we were visiting him last year). Smart move. I'm keeping that idea in my back pocket for November.

I think everyone had a good time. I know I did. I was able to drag out my old Waterbuffalo hat from undergrad, and was even offered $200 for it by a random bar patron. I refused. The pimp hat was donned by Sweaty Pete (the general consensus was that he really wasn't sweaty afterall), but unfortunately, my camera died before I was able to capture this on film. Instead, here's one of me, nonsweaty Pete and DrBoobs:



and one of the Andersons, which again, should make Don and Eva proud:



Michelle has many, many more pictures on her blog. I realized why she yelled at me the next day (see below) for not spending any time with her, as she has very few pictures of me. Sorry treacle... I figured I didn't want to overload you with Anderson before this weekend...

All in all, good times. At the end of the night, the McMaster contingent headed back to Vik's for a game that is suspiciously like Bullshit but with dice (Damned if I can remember what its called), and a night of, once again, very little sleep. But definitely worth it.

The morning saw us enjoying conversation, apartment hopping, attempting to watch Shaun of the Dead, and coffee in the park across the way. After bidding adieu to Aimee and Pete, I ended up going back to my apartment and attempting to sleep, but instead staring at the ceiling for the majority of the afternoon. I was shaken from my reverie with a phone call from Ryan and James, however, from the rooftop patio at Wayne Gretzky's. So once again, off I go to enjoy a couple of patio pints. James and I spent a lot of the time trying to convince Ryan that he's an academic. I don't think I've ever met someone who is in such a state of denial. I am pretty sure that by the time he is done next year, however, he'll be applying for academic jobs. They also spent some time trying to convince me to go to Cambridge to do a fellowship. It is tempting, I must admit.

I also got a phone call from a very, very drunk Michelle (actually, her phone call never worked... Vik had to call again because Michelle had forgotten how to use a phone... hee hee). So after going for Sushi with the boys, I headed over to the Tap to be greeted by drunk Michelle, KK, Vik and LMD. This lasted for a very short time, as I was hitting a wall and needed to get to bed. But at least I was able to say goodbye to KK... and will hopefully be able to meet up with her in London in November.

Monday saw me in a bit of a fuzz. Not much work got done. Christine, your code is almost done though. I promise. However, I had to shake myself out of it because... ATHLETE. Unfortunately, Michelle had to forgo the concert because she had the hangover from hell. Poor kid. She missed, what I would consider, one of the best concerts ever. They were unbelievable. The Opera House is such a great venue, and Joel Pott is such an unbelievable showman:



Yes, this is how close we were to front and centre stage. If you haven't heard them, please, do yourself a favour and download some. They are the next Coldplay.

And the one story I have to relate has to do with KK... when I picked her up from the airport last week and told her we were going to Athlete, she told me the story behind their single "Wires". "Listen to Joel sing it" she says, "and feel the emotion coming from him". I have heard the song many times before, but have never really listened to the words. It was written by Joel Pott for his daughter who was born prematurely. Now knowing this, and listening and watching him sing it live, I have never been moved by a piece of music as much. Both Vik and I stood there with tears in our eyes for the entire song. Do yourself a favour and download this song. It is stunning.

And so ends my week of Brits. Good times all around. Tomorrow its off to SanFran with Michelle and LMD, which should also provide load of blog fodder, so expect one hell of a post next week as well.

Schmooze and Bono

Michelle dragged me for cheap drinks at a place called Schmooze last night. Probably not a good idea given the obscene amount of drinking that will occur tonight. I have never been in a club like this. There is apparently a dress-code, and one must be 25 to enter. Lots of sparkly, and (this describes it all), the back wall in the bathroom stall is a one-way mirror. On the other side, is a unisex washing area. So while you are sitting on the can, you can turn around and see a guy checking himself out in the mirror (I'm still not completely convinced they can't see you). It was weird.

But, again, drinks were uber-cheap until 11. I went up and got 2 bottles of Heineken and a vodka martini for the tune of 8 dollars. Jesus Christ. So worth it.

After 11 (it really wasn't worth staying if the drinks weren't cheap), we headed off to the Irish Embassy to meet up with LMD, who was front row at the U2 concert. Sounds like it was fabuluous. Now I really wish I had've got tickets to one of the 4 shows they are doing in Toronto.

Now, I wasn't sober last night, so I forgot this little tidbit until just about an hour ago.

Apparently, Bono went to the Irish Embassy for a post show pint, but was told there were too many people and so left.

The bouncer told us this later in the evening. Michelle doesn't believe it (who would turn Bono away?), but I think it was not that he was 'turned away' so much as he was just told that he would be mobbed with people if he entered. And so he went to a quieter location.

How cool would that have been?

And now to get ready for our random Brit Hat party this evening. I think we're looking at 50+ people. I don't think my liver's gonna make it. I expect that I'll have some pretty funny pictures to post tomorrow.

My Place Is Packed to the Tits

With Brits. Good times. I realize that fitting 4 people in my teeny-tiny apartment is ALMOST a logistical impossibility. ALMOST. Everyone is cozy, but amazingly everyone had a place to sleep. Thanks goodness that Vik has kindly offered to put some of us up tomorrow as more people will be in town.

This will be a brief post as I have to get off my ridiculous ass and finish Christine's Code this aft. But I do have to mention this:

I have FINALLY discovered the source of "Me Old China".

Brief history: Many moons ago, Amy Eaton (nee: Branscombe) found a pad of paper that was shaped like a tea-kettle and said at the top "Me Old China". As we are NOT the most politically correct of folk, she purchased it and gave it to our only Asian friend, Christine Tsang. We laughed and laughed and laughed, because it seemed so unbelievably random (and, we thought, ignorant).

Fast forward to this morning. Ryan's friend Becky was demonstrating her Cockney accent to us whilst we awaited our keys to be cut. I mentioned that Michelle was slowly introducing us to Cockney rhyming slang. Example: "I'm Hank". Which means "I'm hungry" (Hank Marvin --> Starvin'). Becky asks if I know "Me old China".

I stopped dead cold.

The mystery has been solved. "Me old China" is cockney rhyming slang for "Me Mate". (China Plate --> Mate).

Maybe all y'all would preferred to have left the source a mystery, but I for one can finally sleep well tonight.

Peace.

We Saw Canoe!

The lovely Michelle secured tickets to Thumbsucker, which is showing at the Toronto Film Festival. When asked if I would escort her, I quickly responded "Yea", as I have never attended a screening at TIFF and thought it would be a fun experience. When Michelle told me the title of the film we would be viewing, I gave a cursory once over some of the reviews, noticed no major headliners in the film, and left it at that.

Maybe if I would have read the damn reviews a little closer I would have brought my camera.

So off I go to meet her this evening at the Elgin theatre. She obtained the tickets through a friend at VISA, so we chose to forgo the red carpet mania and instead made a dash for the "pre-screening" lounge for a cheeky beer before the show. Also, as VISA attendees, we got first selection at seating in the theatre. *armpit sniff* Nice.

We gawked at all the people coming in and out... I ran into an old friend from high school I haven't seen in 12 years... and then Michelle decided to hit the head one last time before the film started. She had been eyeing a good lookin' feller that was sitting to our right and was clandestinely taking photos of him. She left the camera with me (in case he turned around and I could get a full head shot), and bounced off to the loo.

And she'll regret that decision for the rest of her life, as she walked out of the washroom and smack dab in front of Canoe Reeves. Turns out, he had a minor role in the film, as did Vince Vaughn (who wasn't there unfortunately).

The movie itself was pretty good. I would recommend it as a rental. A good "coming of age" independent film.

We figured Canoe would leave before the end of the film, but as we were walking by his seat (which was only about 4 rows behind us) damned if he wasn't still sitting there. Michelle got a good picture of him then... I haven't checked her blog yet but I'll bet a million dollars it will be up before 1:00.

Those of you who know me well will know that Keanu would not be my first choice in famous people encounters. But I have to admit I was star-struck all the same.

Michelle, you rock. Unfortunately, my profession will probably never present an opportunity to return the favour, so I'll just have to buy you beer instead.

Schizophrenic Concert-ing

In 3 days, I have gone to 2 concerts that couldn't be more different. Of course, the style of music was completely different (Indie Folk Christian vs British Punk), which may explain the dichotomy in audience. Sufjan Stevens fans tended to be in the 20-30s range with a lot of indie U of T kids, whereas Bloc Party fans were a bunch of young frat kids who were *maybe* pushing 20. Also, the choice in venues may also explain a bit. Sitting-in-church-pews vs. standing-in-mosh-pit certainly contribute different emotional effects when listening to live music. But from a musical perspective, both were unbelievably entertaining and definitely worth the $20 ticket charge. With Sufjan, we got to see spontaneous cheerleading routines all in the name of Illinois. And with Bloc Party, Kele was highly entertaining (i.e. very pretty) and pro-Canadian. This is all less than a week until Athlete (woohoo!) at the Opera House. To prep myself, I have pretty much worn out Vehicles and Animals and Tourist. Should be awesome, as I already know they are fantastic live, and the Opera House is a nice intimate setting with great acoustics.

On a completely different note: someone from Brazil found their way to my website though the search term:

"Phyllo Medusa"

What in the blue fuck could they have been looking for I wonder?

Me and Wireless, We Don't Get Along

Although I am posting for the first time wirelessly. I've got my router set up... but I'm not getting a signal from it. So I'm stealing wireless from one of my neighbours. About 3 hours ago I was having the opposite problem... I was getting a nice strong signal but couldn't get the router and computer IP addresses configured appropriately.

I was going to call Kevin for help, but that would be admitting defeat. At least I'm online again though.... so I'm just going to leave it at that for now. Its probably better for the blood pressure.

For those of you in the Motherland, I purchased my tickets yesterday! I will be flying into London at 8:30 am on Nov. 5th, and flying out again at 9 am on Nov. 12th. That should give me plenty of time to grab a cat nap on the Saturday before the burning begins. And 5 days in Cambridge. Also, I'll be back in the Tdot by noon on Saturday, meaning that I have a full 24 hours to see Lynne Honey before she takes off again! It all comes together in a neat little package.

I went into Hugh's office to ask him if it was OK if I took off for a week in November: he said "Well... just as long as you don't go during the Gray Cup". He then proceeded to tell me that he's met Bill Belichick (they both went to Wesleyan). I like that man's priorities.

Out for Stacey's birthday last night at the Duke of Argyle, where I had probably a bit more than I should have. Ended up going to the Garage to dance for a bit. Woke up at the crack of noon today. Oops.

And tonight, it's off to see Sufjan! Yeehaw! I'm already "Feelin' the Illinois". Its at a church. That's weird. But good weird. Tomorrow its off to London to see Stink and celebrate "Her just being Her".

That is all.

Role Reversals

The last long weekend of the summer. Sigh. Tomorrow I'll find myself forcing my way through crowds of tight shirts, skirts and dangly earrings... all the signs of suburban undergraduates. I'll have to wait for the 196 bus with hundreds of others, I'll inevitably have to stand on the bus, and probably have my Tim Horton's wait time increase ten-fold. Yes, depression is setting in.

So to prepare myself for the chaos, I went to Avonton yesterday. Michelle was gonna come, but had an unfortunate experience with Sangria (or would that be fortunate?) from the day/evening before. So I got Don and Eva to myself for 2 whole days. Probably for the best... I spent most of the time trying to configure my parents' wireless network anyways. Guess how far I got? Sufficed to say, Avonton is not yet wireless. Oh, but I found a renewed hatred for PCs again.

It was, in fact, reminiscent of the basket incident of 2000, where I ended up leaving rooms in frustration whilst saying "FUCK IT" at the top of my lungs.

And to top it all off, my brother is trying to convince my parents to turn their older computer into a Linux box. My mom thinks he's right. I do not. Granted, Eva is very computer literate for a person her age. But is she system adminstrator material? No. When I told her that it would be too hard however, she became quite offended and pointed out that I was unable to set up the network (ouch). I am almost positive that Linux will be installed within a few weeks out of pure spite.

The other big news is that Eva's applying for a job next week at Baird Lumber as a kitchen designer. This is probably a good move, as it will a) give her something to do, b) give them money to renovate their kitchen, and c) provide them with discounted materials for their new kitchen. Her only apprehension is that she doesn't want to leave Don at home alone. The reason: she's afraid that "Don's going to climb trees" when she's not there.

This of course puts the following imagery in my head: Eva, leaving for work in the morning, waving at Don through the front window. Don, waving back, watching until she's out of sight, then immediately running out of the back door and up a tree. I'm not sure why Eva is so fearful of this, but knowing Don, her fears are likely NOT unfounded. For those of you who have not heard "Dad Stories", this may seem a little weird to you. But, for those of you who are familiar with Don and his history of climbing/burning/cutting things, you can understand why Eva may be a bit apprehensive. It actually smacks of the time that Dad fell off the roof in Kansas City and broke his ass, where he was discovered by the cop that lived across the road sitting on the lawn. Yep, if Mom goes to work, Dad my have to be chained down. It would be for the best.

I'll leave you with a picture that I stole from them of their trip out to Newfoundland, which I think nicely illustrates their relationship:



At least they're entertaining.