It is Done.

I have officially put myself onto the job market. After a month of humming and hawwing over CVs, interests, cover letters and job adverts, I have submitted my first application. Wilfrid Laurier will be getting my life-story tomorrow morning, to be perused with critical eyes. Jesus, what a nerve-wracking experience.

I dragged Kevin with me to deliver the damned thing for moral support. After quoting some of my cover letter to him, he decided that I have surpassed the ass-kissing level and have attained the full-on anal rimming stage of sucking up. Booyeah.

So now I just have to send 2 more out by the end of the week. Here is where I must be organized, to ensure that I don't send the wrong applications to the wrong people. Fuck.

And somehow I have to get ready to leave for Engerland on Friday. As I have no travel companion, it looks like I'm going to have to organize all of the travel logistics myself. Including getting home. I'll be lucky if I make it back by mid-March.

Why I Can't Move to the States

So Nana Mouskouri's Grandson and I have adopted a new daily 4pm ritual. We head over to Tim Horton's. Then we stand in line. Then we place our order. Then we do a happy dance. Why you ask? Because we are waiting for our Hot Smoothies.

Holy fuck, that is some good-ass shit.

Today I am drinking the Orange hot smoothie. It tastes like a warm creamsicle. Kevin chose the Raspberry hot smoothie. It tastes more like a hot milkshake. If 'fruit' is not your bag (Skye, I'm looking at you), then I would strongly recommend trying either the Hazelnut or Butter Caramel hot smoothies. Those are kick-ass good as well.

Do yourself a favour and get one. You'll never go hot chocolate again. I never knew that a non-caffeinated drink could put one in such a happy place. This drink is the final clincher: I can't move to a Tim Horton-less nation. You may think I'm joking, but I am completely serious.

I also just got Aqualung off of iTunes. Brilliant. Give them a listen.

Those are my public service announcements for the day.

Kevin's Nana

Kevin just told me that for the first 7 years of his life, he thought Nana Mouskouri was related to him because her first name was Nana.

Maybe its the glasses. He just misses his old glasses.

I'm just laughing my ass off here.

My World-View Lacks Sufficient God-View

In the process of attempting to weave together some sort of teaching philosophy, I encountered something that I have never really given much thought to. Now, I KNOW that there are Christian Colleges out there, but I guess I have never really paid attention to what that means. I kind of thought they were like the Catholic School board (i.e. pretty much like every other school but with a religion class thrown in here and there). Turns out, not so much.

These people are, well, a little off.

Case in point, HERE'S the teaching philosophy for "A highly ranked, nationally competetive college that puts Christ above all". And I'm all on board with their Integrative position. The fact that the department has their own theme verse (not in song terms either, in the biblical sense) scares me. It scares me a lot.

Apparently, the purpose of Psychology is to aid in helping God's creatures who have diverted from the path of righteousness. OH..... I didn't get the memo. I wonder how psychophysics will help "aid students in their journey of loving and developing eternally meaningful relationships with God, others, and self". I may have to reevaluate my whole research program, and approach vision from more of a God-View. Maybe I can measure His contrast sensitivity at the same time. I would bet that His spatial frequency channels would be significantly broader than normal.

This department frightens me.

Well, It's Official

I'm on the surgical waitlist to have my ACL repaired (wait time 6 months). The surgeon touted me as an "Ideal Candidate for Reconstructive Surgery". That made me happy, as I don't know as I have ever been referred to as an ideal anything. But now its sinking in about what that means.

It means that they're going to cut me open, slice me up, and screw me back together again.

This is making me nervous. I have never had surgery. I have never stayed in the hospital. I've never had stitches. For Christ sake, I've never even had a cavity. I'm a healthy person (even despite the retarded amount of drinking and smoking that I do). But now, I'm going to actually have a knife penetrate the surface of my skin. Shudder. It also didn't help that the surgeon was required to disclose potential risks, which included amputation above the knee should the surgery go horribly awry.

But afterwards, I'm going to be able to run and jump as I was once able to do (after another 6 months). I'll be free as a bird! And the 90-95% promise of complete mobility once again supercedes any cowardice that I am feeling at the moment. So I'm doing it.

To celebrate, I have decided to treat myself to a .Mac account. My computer is acting funny, and I need to back up my data. After careful consideration, I have decided that .Mac is the way to go. And it will also provide me with webspace for picture sharing, so I won't have to update my flickr account. Ah yes, a good afternoon it shall be indeed.

Good For a Larf

Jen just pointed me to THIS website. Funny shit. Reminiscent of Poundy's WeightWatchers Cards.

This also reminds me of the whole reason I
a) bought a digital camera, and
b) started blogging.

as, at one point in life, Hessels and I were going to catalogue and comment on Kinder Egg Surprises. Are we going to get on that buddy?

LMFAO.

My Eyes Have Been Opened...

...to the COOLEST fucking thing in the entire world. My whole perspective on what I'm going to do on Sunday afternoons has now been revamped: I'm going to spend that vast majority of my time doing THIS. It's like modern day orienteering, except over the entire continent.

Hessels and Ryan, I'm pretty sure this would be your bag too.

Random (no T) Things to Do on a Friday Afternoon

I have a number of points of interest (loosely speaking) but no major underlying theme. Here they are in point form:

1. Vik and I went to see Matt Barber at his CD release on Tuesday. Once again, fabulous. My enthusiasm is also related to the fact that the show was within my price range (a.k.a. free.). If you are interested, he has provided his new album online and you can listen to it HERE. Launch the audio player on the left side and enjoy!

2. I was just standing outside having a smoke and had the pleasure of listening to 3 young 20-something year old males list "Reasons you know she loves you". Some actions of note:
a) If she makes you pancakes
b) If she ties your shoes
c) If she peels your Mango (no there is no hidden meaning here, they literally meant the fruit)
Somewhere there are 3 lucky ladies who are going to be given the opportunity to fulfill these requirements for these young gentlemen.

3. For those of you that are familiar with the concept of Research Methods, you may want to take a look at THIS. Reliability and Validity be damned! My new motto: make shit up and do statistics on it. Oh, and include graphs.

4. Here's a picture that I'll leave open to YOU for interpretation:



5. Many of you will remember my friend from home/roomate at NASA, Andrea. I just got word that her Mom passed away last night. She was very sick, for a very long time, so I'm sure that this was for the best. But Jeannie was a lovely person, and will be sadly missed. Once again, things that put shit in perspective on a Friday afternoon.

A Brief Insight Into the Psyche of Young Students

I just went to get money out of the bank machine at the University Centre. I was standing in line in the vestibule at the Bank of Montreal, and there were 2 girls at the ATM in front of me. They were both dressed like JLo, as the vast majority of students here appear to be. They were having a bit of a problem with the concept of 'automatic banking'

JLo.1: Like, oh my god [yes, this is verbatim], what do I do?
JLo.2: Put the cheque in an envelope
JLo.1: I'm always confused at these things
JLo.2: Have you never deposited money before?
JLo.1: Yes, but I never remember what number I'm supposed to put in

[What number could this be? I wonder to myself. Obviously, she's not talking about the PIN number, as it has long been entered. So she must be talking about the cash amount. I fail to understand why this isn't straight forward]

At this point, the machine is beeping incessantly, awaiting said envelope

JLo.1: Oh my god, where does it go?
JLo.2: In the hole that is beeping (JLo.2 was obviously a little more worldly)
JLo.1: This one?
JLo.2: Yes.
JLo.1 (after the envelope has been deposited and they are walking away): Man, that is some seriously fucked up shit

I can honestly say that it the first time I have heard somebody used the term "seriously fucked up shit" while using a bank machine. Especially from someone under the age of 70.

Before this debaucle, my plan for the day was to sit down and write a Philosophy of Teaching Statement for upcoming job applications. I don't think this would be a good idea today. Terms like "Bright Young Minds" and "Educating the Leaders of Tomorrow" aren't exactly popping into my mind right now.

Maybe tomorrow. As long as I can avoid the student centre.