What Anderson Does In Edmonton

British UberGeek's Book is Out!

2007-03-15T20:04:00.000-07:00

As I pull myself away from work for a second, I need to make a promotional blog. British Ubergeek's book is almost out! You can read about it HERE

Tell everyone you know! Prepurchase today! You can bet you ass that most of the members of my engineering family will be getting one.

SOMEONE....

2007-02-23T08:15:00.000-08:00

submitted.

Congratulations L'il bro.

A Sad Weekend in ETown

2007-02-20T21:00:00.000-08:00

I received a sad message on my MySpace page on Friday. The 'Track, a staple location of the Edmonton music scene, announced that they were closing their doors. To put this in perspective, this would be analogous to the Horseshoe, or Lee's Palace. announcing that they were closing. Even though I've only been around here for 8 months, the 'Track has been around for 26 years, and I can appreciate how shocked the music community here is. There are many people who have started their careers at the 'Track, and there are even more that have performed there on their rise to the top. There are a lot of very sad musicians around these days.

The other reason the Track was so great was because it was the closest bar to our place. Ergo, by definition, it was our local.

So Chiquita and I headed out last night, to enjoy one of our last open mic nights (a Monday night pseudoritual that we have adopted). With some work in hand, we were expecting to sit down, have a couple of pints, do some reading, and enjoy some ambient live music in the background. It really is one of the usual high points of my week. When we reached the door, there was no activity. It was dark. The streets were silent. There was only a small and simple sign taped to the door to indicate:

Closed

And only a mere 2 days after their announcement. I feel sad that we weren't even able to say goodbye. Also, a little bit robbed that I only got to enjoy it for 8 months. We were just getting to know each other. And now I've got to start to look for a new venue all over again.

Sigh.

Heavier Things

2007-02-11T15:38:00.000-08:00

I did the unthinkable: I signed up for John Mayer's fan site. It cost me $25, which sounds like a bit of an extravagence. This all came about however, because of a sign that was posted on my door on Wednesday, by Market Goddess. John has announced he is coming to Edmonton in his first ever cross-Canada tour. Tickets go onsale Thursday.

...Unless of course you are in the fan club, in which case they went onsale on Friday. So I joined, and got some before the rest of the twenty-somethings get their paws on them. Floor seats. 13th row. I'm pretty 'cited.

And for those of you who have always thought I was a bit of a JM freak, Market Goddess, who is unfortunately unable to make the Edmonton show, has just booked plane tickets to Vancouver to see him there.

See? There's more than one of us.

Media Relations

2007-02-07T15:44:00.000-08:00

My television debut occured last week on Global Edmonton. You can watch a very crappy version, recorded via Honey's camera from my television.

Here

Note once again how incredibly large I am. And how large my hands are. And how my large hands fly everywhere when I'm talking about research.

And since I'm on it, here's a picture of my lab, wit' me and the boys (see the chin rest my Dad built me? Best chinrest ever):

And what happens when I go to an 80s party in Sherwood Park:

Not nearly as in costume as a certain someone else (Note the Flock of Seagulls):

As Promised

2007-02-02T14:34:00.000-08:00

Yes, a full pint held in her cleavage.

That she can drink from.

What a classy gal.

The Nut-Shells of Mr and Mrs KJM

2007-01-31T21:17:00.000-08:00

Only a week and a half later! And I have pictures. I think it has taken that long for me to get over my one and only attempt at "jet-setting". I really, really don't know how Boston can do it.

My trip back to Toronto was short, yet filled with (albeit brief) visits. I have Photologged the whole damned thing.

I landed in the Tdot at exactly 11:56pm on Thursday evening. While I was going to go to Cleavers, a text from Boston sent me scrambling to the Tap, where a white wine (courtesy Jay the bartender), and good times awaited. There was a goal, as Boston was leaving for China at 7:20am the following morning (we have a tendency to keep her awake until she takes her flight... I blame her). In bed by about 6:40am, which gave Boston exactly 26 minutes to rest before she took off around the globe.

I, on the other hand, woke up at 12:38pm (long after she left). I spent the afternoon doing what I do best, wandering Toronto and purchasing 4 t-shirts in Chinatown to the tune of $10 (I've had so many compliments on those shirts....). Cleavers had to WORK (sucker), so I needed to wait until she was done to meet up. But meet up we did, for a tour de Duke of York to meet with the NeuroSarah, Fletch, Vick and Dave. We were entertained with British poo stories along with an existential moment where Fletch claimed to see Yin and Yang in his pint.

Also, I was able to gravel across the floor, and may have almost made amends with the Noblest person I know (aka NeuroSarah). Her stories from Ethopia actually made me want to visit. And make me feel even worse for not contacting her for her duration there (PLEASE NeuroSarah... take this as a public apology for being an asswipe friend!!!)

Seeing as Boston kept me up for so goddamned long the night before, I needed to sleep at a reasonable hour to prepare for the whole reason I went home.

KJM (aka UberGeek)'S WEDDING:

Now for the Gold. Saturday Morning, took off for Guelph to attend the event to kill all events. Met with Myth and Yani at Yorkdale in a rented car to head out... Bless both of them for having organizational skills that far surpass mine. Even without a map, nor any indication for an address for where we would be staying for the night, we were able to make it in one piece to Guelph. We even made it a full 45 minutes before the ceremony (where pictures weren't allowed, so I couldn't even get photographic evidence of Ubergeek crying in a skirt.... (sorry dude, had to say it)).

All joking aside though, it an amazing ceremony. Beautiful. I've been to a lot of weddings (not mine, much to my parents chagrin), and most of the time you are just waiting it out for the reception. But this was one of the rare instances where you are just honoured to be in the same room as two people who are celebrating the rest of their lives together. And there are no two people who deserved that moment more. Congratulations guys. You did it.

Now I can joke again.

Then we drank. Bless the Scot's and their open bar (although truth be told, Myth and I couldn't wait that extra 20 minutes for the bar to open, and we purchased some wine before everything started). We went through dinner (great... I had my first Quiche... it didn't have egg in it!), speeches (for the first time, somebody thanked ME for coming a long distance!! Usually I'm just travelling down the 401), and we got down to the first dance (sorry for the quality/lack of zoom):

The bride was blushing:

And looked even better when placed next to the Amazonian woman:

Even a photop next to the Groom didn't seem to feminize Amazonian woman:

Although it did spur a conversation at a wedding that has probably NEVER occured before:

Where Groom (let's revert back to Ubergeek at this point) wanted to look at the code for one of our collaborative works together. Yes, his computer was there:

Lets not tell Mrs. Ubergeek. Once again, there should NEVER EVER be more than one vision scientist per room. We have established this on many occasions.

At this point, things got fuzzy. I remember begging Ubergeek's advisor and husband not to leave. I think I was then poured onto a shuttle bus back to the hotel, where I slept blissfully for several hours.

Which was good, as Don and Eva picked me up for the airport at 9am the next morning. Yep, even got to see the folks for 3 hours on my trip home. Bless them (I'm pretty sure noone from the wedding was going to drive me back at that time of the morning, although Yani offered). On the plane, and home again, a mere 72 hours after I left.

And so UberGeek is hitched. Thy will be done. Although it was a tiring trip, I am so very glad that I was able to be there for it.

I will need to next post about last weekend, where Chiquita mimiced Molly Ringwald from the Breakfast Club. You know the scene... the one with the lipstick. Only it wasn't Molly Ringwald, it was Chiquita.

And it wasn't lipstick, it was a pint of beer.

Yeah, you read that right.

And we have the picture to prove it.

Googlewhackblatt

2007-01-25T11:51:00.000-08:00

OK... I haven't posted picts from Geeks wedding yet, but I will very soon. I just had to add this RIGHT NOW as I am very excited... it appears that I have stumbled across a Googlewhackblatt. Don't know what that is? Check it out on Wikipedia (I erroneously thought that I had found a GoogleWhack, but it seems that this may even be rarer).

The Googlewhackblatt term?

Wiperlab.

Of course, by blogging this, I reign supreme, as this term will now exist on two websites, and no longer exist as a Googlewhackblatt (aka the Googlewhackblatt paradox). And I can be secure in the knowledge that I will be the one and only person who can claim this title in the entire interweb universe.

I feel like I just won the Oscar.

A Weekend O' Rexall

2007-01-16T08:27:00.000-08:00

I'm working right now, so I shouldn't blog. But I will because I have pictures.

Honey and I decided to spend as much time as possible at Rexall this weekend. First it was the Olier game on Friday:

They lost. That sucked. Although Honey reintroduced Beer into her diet in preparation for our UK '07 tour, so that makes me happy.

Then it was off to the Edmonton Rush (Lacrosse) on Saturday:

They lost too. That sucked harder (although it was a ridiculously exciting game: the Rush scored with -0.1 seconds left, and if that were a POSITIVE integer, they would have tied it up).

With this losing streak under our belts as audience members, we were concerned with whether or not the Tragically Hip would win on Sunday:

And boy, did they win. Gordie was in fine, fine form. And they played some songs that I never thought I would ever hear live (i.e. Grace Too and Fiddler's Green). I think I cried a little bit.

All in all, one hell of a Canadian weekend.

Pharmarachnophobia

2007-01-06T08:04:00.000-08:00

My Obvious Resolution

2007-01-03T18:06:00.000-08:00

Need I state it? Notice how I'm back? Notice how my blog title has changed? Yes, I am confident that I will have much more time this semester, and as such, Lemmiwinks(13) has been resurrected. Bless.

The prospect of summarizing the past 5 months is far too daunting. As such, I will simply pretend that I have been abducted by aliens (ie undergrads) for the past little bit, and have only now found myself back on earth. Short summary of last semester: Awesome. Love teaching. But I look forward to NOT prepping courses this coming semester, and instead focusing on the whole research thing. As of today, my computers are ready to go. Let the coding begin!!!

So let me jump back into blogging mode through a synopsis of the holidays. I'm sure that the 2 readers that I have left will appreciate it.

The first couple of days was spent in the T-dot, at Cleavers place. Customer appreciation night at the Tap (food donations = free booze... woohoo!) served to be a most excellent (albeit brief) reintroduction to the Tdot. By the end of the night, I had given away all but 2 out of the 30 business cards that I brought back with me (including 2 to a lovely girl from Yellowknife and her boyfriend from St. Johns at 3am on Bloor St... guess who shouldn't be given business cards), and got to eat my favorite brown-people food before bed. I rolled out of bed the next morning to have a loverly brunch with Mary, then headed down to the Apple Store to meet UberGeek for a (albeit brief) happy Apple Store reunion (you may recall our fetish for Apple here . And thank God it was UberGeek I was with, for noone but Mr. WB himself would have appreciated the fact that we saw (and sort of stalked) Scott Speedman in line. I only have one word for him. And that is Yum.

After I purchased my new Mini (thanks to the kindness of loving friends who were glad to see me leave Toronto last time), we headed to the Pump for a *meeting* with British Ubergeek. We actually did work, and got some great stuff accomplished, although we all know that Beer + Vision Scientists always degrades into a sloppy mess . See?

You will all be happy to know that British UberGeek's book will be on shelves by April. I am purchasing 4.

The next day I headed out to London by train to meet up with Stink and Hessels, who flew in that night. If you DON'T read Cleavers blog, then you wouldn't know that I was mentioned in the Star (OK... so it was largely Cleavers (bottom of article), but I was the friend she was seeing off at the airport). Stink was pissed that my train was an hour late. You know what would have helped? If she had a CELL PHONE. We headed to some Weasel Pub (which wasn't there when I was at UWO) that was quite lovely. Chatted the night away over (literally) one too many pitchers (we should have stuck with 2. But no. Hessels had to get greedy). Stink drove us to Avonton the next morning, where I got to see the new kitchen:

which is lovely. Big windows to capitolize on the view of the river in the back, and countertops custom built from barn wood from the farm by Don.

Don and Eva have also taken to making their own wine. Its quite good, really. It also gives me an idea...

The rest of the trip was a bit more relaxing... watching movies (with homemade wine), eating fondue (with homemade wine), opening presents (with homemade wine). I got a lovely quilt made by Mom that now adorns my bed. I headed to Blyth with Stink on the 27th to visit the Hessels homestead (and FINALLY the Rubber Boot... yes the place does exist). I headed back to Edmonton on the 29th (after one last trip to the Apple Store for a DVI to SVid adaptor at Sherway Gardens... now I've been to every Apple store in Ontario!). Was greeted at the airport by Chiquita and Lynne (who, I'm pretty sure, were just looking for an excuse to drink, as is evidenced here : note the timestamp). But what a lovely way to arrive back into town.

The rest of my time was spent settling back in; I set up my Mini (aka Quagmire). While he doesn't have a keyboard nor mouse, he has a lovely remote which I can use to watch DVDs and listen to ma music. Eek, being all needy as she is, tried (and failed miserably) to fit into the box:

Get over it girlfriend.

Finally, I spent NYs with Gord and Chiquita. After admiring Quagmire (which I will, of course, force everyone to do for the next 2 months), we had a few beer and headed over to the Sherlock Holmes (our new local). Good times (besides all the creepy/gropey guys that were by the washroom and the fight that started at the next table. Hazzah for Gord for being able to protect us). Although Chiquita looks like she is plotting something:

Look familiar?

All in all, a good night, wrapped up by some Arrested Developement. Always a good way to enter the New Year. I was sad because I didn't get to see a certain someone, but I did receive a greeting from him today:

And, even though he doesn't know it yet, I think I might have found him a new piece of ass:

We'll see if there's a connection.

Longest Move Ever

2006-07-11T16:47:00.000-07:00

There's good reason that I haven't posted much yet, nor changed my blog title: I'm still not moved in. My stuff hasn't arrived (I haven't seen any of it in over 3 weeks now). Until today, I was using Lynne's office as a resting place. I am technically living in my apartment, but *living* consists of a (newly purchased) Ikea sofa bed, dresser, the world's most fantastic patio set, and 2 majesty palms. Oh, and new wireless access. And, of course, the contents of my suitcase.

No couch.

No TV.

No proper shoes (although I broke down and bought another pair of Chucks. Red low tops this time).

No phone (I refuse to use my cell, as I have to keep my Toronto number because that's the only way the damned movers can get a hold of me when they do come).

Its a good thing I'm a relatively laid back person, because many people put in my position may have lost it by now.

Yes, you may be feeling sorry for poor, poor Anderson at this moment.

But before you bring out the small violins...

I have met the other new faculty member. We get on like 2 houses on fire. She's a hell of a lot of fun, and our type of peeps. She is a Forensic psychologist, and I think that we are going to be able to do some really cool research together. Also: lives across the courtyard from me. Which is especially useful, as she has had me over for dinner (seeing as I don't have the facilities to cook my own dinner yet), provided me with plates and cutlery (which vastly improves the selection of entrees that I can eat when I DO choose to eat at home), and satiates my need to occasionally imbibe. Swee-eet.

I have learned that even though I possess virtually nothing at this point, there is no way that I will ever survive without a washer/dryer, dishwasher (which I haven't used but recognize the potential), or 2 bathrooms again. You may think to yourself: what the hell would one person ever need 2 bathrooms for? But when you have to pee, the mere fact that you don't even have to decide "left or right?" (either direction will get you to the desired goal) saves valuable time on the way to the can.

I have also checked out my 3 locals. Ceili's goes without saying. Lynne and I went to dinner at the Sherlock Holmes, which is a fantastic Pub located 3 blocks from my place and offers the illusion of British entitlement, And we just got back from the Sidetrack, where we saw a sampler of bands that we shall see in full force at Waynefest in September. And its only a block from my place. It's like God realized that I needed live music and decided to create a venue just for me.

And the best news of all is that I now have my new computer. His name is John Frink. As I removed him from his box, I shed some tears. He's just so goddamned pretty. He comes with a remote (I know, I know: What would you need a remote for? But I had a hell of a lot of fun sitting at the other side of the office and looking through my iTunes playlists). Unfortunately, the next couple of days are sucked up so I don't have a chance to set him up properly, but I know that he's waiting for me.

As with any good love affair, its the anticipation. The sweet, sweet anticipation.

Why... HERE I am!

2006-07-03T08:58:00.000-07:00

Before I say ANYTHING, I am fully aware that I am now going to have to change the title of my blog. I will do that at the earliest opportunity. But such a change takes time, as I am going to have to come up with something witty.

As of this moment, I have been a resident of Edmonton for precisely 61 hours and 14 minutes. And only now do I feel like I am fully awake to appreciate this change. I have spent the last 3 or so weeks in a permanent state of sleep deprivation, due to a combination of packing/wrapping things up/being taken out for a gazillion goodbye drinks. I think that I FINALLY caught up as of last night. Honey must think I've lost it, as I have been asleep for a large part of the 61+ hours that I have been here.

Also, the fact that I am getting substantially more oxygen here due to the fresh Edmonton air may be contributing to my acute narcolepsy. Even though, like Cleavers , the sun doesn't seem to be on board with my Let-Anderson-Sleep plan. It's pretty light here. All the time.

While not asleep, we have been running around the city getting Anderson organized. I have finally seen my apartment (though nothing is in it right now...). It is lovely, and everyone who will come visit me will appreciate that the visitation accomodations are substantially better than those received at 18 Tichester. Although my possessions have not yet arrived, I have already purchased the sofabed, dresser, and patio set that I knew that my new apartment would require. Did I mention Edmonton has an Ikea? Thank God.

I also picked up my car. Sans stereo. Someone nicked it between here and Toronto. Since I pretty much live to listen to music in my car, I feel that I spiral into a slight state of depression everytime I get behind the wheel, reach to turn on the CD player, and find my finger pressing blank air. As such, I have been trying to get quotes on replacing the damned thing (which is 'supposedly' covered by the shipping company... we'll see when I submit my expenses), as I may go crazy due to sensory deprivation.

And in the midst of organizational chores, we were even able to make it to watch the Engerland footie at 8am Saturday morning at E&C on Whyte. Every Englishman in Alberta was there. They filled to capacity 10 minutes after opening their doors, and we were lucky to find standing room next to a bar. Apparently, the staff had not expected a turn out like that, and were severely understaffed. I accidently bumped a RAVING bitch of a waitress during a bout of enthusiastic cheering, who proceeded to swear and curse at me like a sailor/whore. While she tried to make nice later in the game by talking to me, I ignored her (Oh Anderson and your passive aggressive tendencies). I will not be going back to that bar. Oh, and my mood was not lifted as Engerland lost in penalty shots. That was the saddest thing I have ever seen.

We went into the College on Friday to say hi... I was very warmly welcomed by all that I saw. Some joked that I would be getting phone calls at all hours by the chair seeing that I am living so close to work... I think they were kidding... on the square...

And today we must come up with a list of course descriptions for the Faculty of Science syllabus. If I had any preconceived notions of gently being introduced into the world of tenure-track faculty, those are now gone. I'm hitting the ground running. And looking damned forward to it.

Because I'm pretty sure that if I have a blank second, the fact that I have moved 1000+ miles from home may actually sink in.

A 2 Second Breather...

2006-06-25T19:08:00.001-07:00

I'm not dead: just really tired. My last weekend in Toronto has proven to be crazy to say the least. The tale will be told, however that shall be left for another day. But this must be pointed out: we were at Skalliwags this morning, to the shock and amazement of many, to watch the England game. Sure enough, CTV shows up. We were on the news. Michelle thinks Beckham is hot. Mary is pro-international. Rooney has magically turned into a characture of himself and tries desperately to get in the camera at every turn.

We pissed ourselves SO hard when we saw this on the evening news, and we've been laughing ever since.

Check out the news cast HERE .

My Olny Blog from Engerland...

2006-06-17T18:23:00.000-07:00

says this: My cab comes in 5 minutes, I just watched the first period of the Oilers game, I am not sober, and this is the only chance I've had to write anything. It's been a good trip.

Go Oilers!!!

And So It Begins

2006-06-08T07:05:00.000-07:00

I spent a few minutes in bed with Eek this morning, trying to convey to her that she had just slept through her last night in Toronto. Don and Eva are picking her up today, and other than a few visits home over the next couple of weeks, I will not see her until August.

I don't think she understood, as she seemed relatively indifferent.

I, on the other hand, seem to have developed a permanent sense of nerves that I can't shake. I hope that my trip to Engerland will help settle them.

My move from Toronto has begun.

The Andersons and their Crazy-Assed Pets

2006-06-01T17:01:00.002-07:00

Most of you have met Eek at some point or another. Somewhere along the line, my cat lost all vestiges of sanity and convinced herself she was a human. She likes to stand on her hind legs when looking at something intently. She will only drink water out of a glass (or direct from the tap). I have also recently discovered that she loves strawberries. Not loves in the if-placed-down-on-the-ground-I-will-eat-them loves, but if-a-box-of-strawberries-is-opened-I-will-sell-my-soul-and-god-forbid-anyone-gets-in-my-way loves.

Apparently I have developed some very dubious pet-rearing techniques somewhere. More specifically, apparently I have developed some very dubious pet-rearing techniqes from my parents.

Case in point: their new pet. They are very excited. They have a baby goose. They have named him 'Curious George'.

Curious George was discovered by my Uncle on a gravel road by the farm. He picked him up, and unable to find the rest of the gaggle, took him home to rear to adulthood. Unfortunately, raising Curious George proved to be more difficult than one would expect, and one short week later, Curious George was shuttled off to my parents'. This was for 3 reasons:

1. They have nothing else to do. So Curious George gets all of their attention.
2. They have a river, and have in fact walked Curious George in the river (teaching hime to swim, with my parents following in rubber boots, see above)
3. They love animals (and have no problem letting a goose into the house).

It also gives Don a greater reason to sit down by the river:

Good Lord they need grandchildren.

Ah.... Wikipedia.

2006-05-25T21:10:00.000-07:00

God bless the open-source encyclopaedia. What kills me is what people decide to include in this veritable Hitchhiker's guide. Avonton, a berg of about 48 people and Don and Eva's current locale, actually has an entry. And apparently only 3 famous people have come from St. Marys (One of which I have mentioned before). There is no mention of Brunner, which is the family farm homestead, but Milverton is there.

Between myspace and Wikipedia, I'm not sure how I'm going to get anything done.

The Witticisms of British UberGeek

2006-05-19T10:18:00.000-07:00

SOMEONE:

was upset that I didn't include his second best line of all time in my VSS postmortem blog (The first occured in Boston with his advisor: I will let him tell that story). This occured when we were at Cha Cha Coconuts, and the UberGeeks had donned the MIB sunglasses. The exchange went like this:

British Ubergeek (to UberGeek): You know the difference between you and me?

UberGeek: What?

British UberGeek: These glasses make your data look good.

I thought it was more entertaining that while at Phillipe Creek (and after a few Tequilas), British UberGeek went up to one of the other patrons, who was also a Visionary (and a well known one at that) and had the following exchange:

British UberGeek: Hey! Aren't you Well Known Visionary?

Well Known Visionary (positively beaming after this Rock Star moment): Why yes! I am!

British UberGeek: Do you know how I know that?

Well Known Visionary: How?

British UberGeek: It's written on your nametag.

[Well Known Visionary looks down, and sees that he has travelled halfway across town still wearing his conference nametag. Crestfallen, he walks away with his head down, a slight breeze causing him to swing in the wind].

That's how it all went down.

Things I Will Miss: Vol. IV

2006-05-18T18:34:00.000-07:00

This one makes me cry.

Over the past 2.7 years, I have taken advantage of the fantastic music scene that this fair city has to offer. I have seen almost all of the musical acts that I have wanted to see. Everything from American (e.g. Old 97s, Jack Johnson, Sufjan Stevens, John Mayer), to British (e.g. South, Coldplay, Arctic Monkeys, Editors), to homegrown Canadians (e.g. Andy Stochansky, Tragically Hip, Matt Barber, Royal Wood). There are very few acts that I have had on my *list* that have not come through the T-Dot in the past couple of years.

With one glaring exception.

That would be Mark Kozelek. I briefly mentioned this nearly a year ago. In fact, when my mother asked me this weekend whether or not there was a song that touched my soul (while driving with my parents to Bayfield and listening to Tapestry on CBC one), I responded with Byrd Joel by Red House Painters (aside: Eva mentioned Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley... Don thought that Rufus Wainright's version was better... turns out my parents may be cooler than I think...). If you haven't heard it and become curious enough to download it, darken the room, play this song, and just feel the gradual crescendo that occurs over the entire 6:25 of the song. Byrd Joel is the greatest song of all time, and I would give near anything to hear it live.

Wouldn't it figure that Mark Kozolek should be coming through town less than 2 weeks after I move away.

He's performing at Lee's Palace.

On my birthday.

An Ode to the MofSS

2006-05-11T14:56:00.000-07:00

Another year, another VSS wrapped up under the belt. And, yet again, there are stories aplenty. No O'Douls was purchased this year, though not for lack of trying. The John Ringling statue did not receive a new hat, but he is the proud new owner of a conference nametag, should he want to learn more about visual science in 2007. As this is nearly a week after I got back, I may forget some of our tale, but rest assured, I remember the more memorable moments.

Our adventures began far too early on a Thursday morning. 5 of our lab members, several members of the Crawford lab, and the newly annointed "British Ubergeek", were all enroute to Sarasota by 6:30am, to ensure some solid beach time before the conference began. British Ubergeek, who is writing a book about Sir George Cayley, was ridiculously exuberant, as we had a layover in Charlotte. Why you might ask? Because there is a model replica of the Wright Brothers first plane suspended in one of the gate areas:

Ironically, British Ubergeek had stumbled upon this model in the Charlotte airport a few years before, had taken some photos, and was set to include them in his book. However, an unfortunate computer crash and a lack of backups resulted in the loss of said photos. But as fate should have it, he was able to replace the photo of the Wright brothers' replica that was lost. Look for it in a Sir George Cayley biography coming soon near you.

We were in Sarasota by 1:00 in the afternoon, which meant that we were able to spend almost 24 hours in and around the beach. We were in a new hotel this year, which looked like this:

Although I am not a beach person (and even less so when I can't play volleyball), I did manage to sit out for a few hours and get the most retarded burn ever (yes, I was responsible this year and decided to use sunscreen, and no I did not think to apply it evenly along my back and arms). Thank God my poster was the next day, so I got to look stupid for that.

A nice feature of the conference this year was that the Poster Hall was wireless. So I got to check my email. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way why one should NOT... I repeat NOT... set up an automatic response to emails while you are away: House of Blues apparently employs *special* people as system admins. For every email they receive, they send a "do Not Respond" email. Which of course elicits an automatic response. Which elicits a Do Not Respond email. Which... well you get the picture. Sufficed to say, I had 360 emails a mere 40 hours after I left the lab, 350 of which were from House of Blues. Every 6 minutes. Never again.

The next day saw most of us in front of our posters. As per normal, most were *done* on the first day, which was swee-eet. My poster went great, and once again I spent nearly 4 hours (instead of the allocated 1 hour) walking people through. I don't know why I enjoy it so much, but I do. I figure I'll go with it. UberGeek lost some form of virginity at his apparently: when I went to gather him up to go drinkin', his advisor grabbed me by the shoulders, looked deep in my eyes, and said "You are going to have to take him out for a beer or five". At which point I learned that one person had given him a bit of a fisting (although to be fair, the guy is known to be an ass under most circumstances). Something to do with the MofSS. And if I have to hear more about it, like I did here:

Or here:

And especially here:

then I may vomit (and Biritsh UberGeek will concur, I am sure). I can promise that I will never use it in my experiments after listening to a million diatribes... so maybe some good came of UberGeek's experience after all. At least he was happy after beer, ice cream, and a little word from God:

Bless his heart.

As we were finished, the rest of the week saw us much more relaxed and in many of the situations we have been in before. We had our lab dinner at Phillipe Creek, which serves the best oysters in town. It is also the place where the majority of VSS patrons go each night, so we ran in to a gaggle of visionarys there. This, of course, included the UberGeeks, whom I am quite convinced simply followed me there because they missed me for the 4 hours I was gone. And so that British UberGeek could drink good Tequila. I'm also pretty sure they went to take this photo:

Those boys are all class, all the time I tell you. Exemplified by our trip to Hooters, of course:

We also made our yearly trek to Cha Cha Coconuts for the Blackened Mahi Mahi and our bucket o' beer:

And an imitation of the MIB by the UberGeeks:

When we weren't out for dinner or at the conference, we spent our evenings on the patio of Coquina on the Beach (where the Ubergeeks were staying, along with Cory and Grigori), hanging out, drinking, berating other vision scientists, yada yada, nada nada. As this is what one would call a 'social' location (i.e. at the entrance of the hotel, and a location where all other patrons must walk in order to get to their rooms), I have already booked myself in there for next year. Gonna be sweet. Casa des UberGeek invites good times alright:

SO good, in fact, that the last night of the conference, we drank too much wine, and were UNABLE to make it to Club Vision, much to our (and UberGeeks's advisor's) chagrin. You will even note that I am wearing my glow-in-the-dark tshirt in anticipation. Pants. I also had a couple of videos of this evening that I thought would be entertaining, but turns out are far too embarrassing to reveal to the rest of the world. A la the whole iPod experience of 2005.

And that's about it. That's how we spent the conference. The only other entertaining moment was on the way home, again in the Charlotte airport. UberGeek flew home with us, and as I felt that I had not spent enough time with him through the week (note the sarcasm and the fact that he is in nearly in every picture), I spent all the time I could with him. Which of course meant beer (we had a 3.5 hour lay-over). At the bar. And as we were at the bar, talking, laughing, singing off key (as we do), a man siddles up to us, places a business card on the bar, and says out of the corner of his mouth "There has been far too much flashing going on over here". First thought for me: look down at what I'm wearing (which was a tshirt... not much flashing going on there). The man then walked back to the other end of the bar, sat down with his wife, picked up his camera, and pointed at it and then us. Turns out, he had spent a bunch of time taking photos of us. His business card contained his URL and his email for us to get the photos. We haven't emailed him yet, but perhaps we will.

For you see, I don't have enough photos of UberGeek.

I'm Back.

2006-05-11T12:45:00.000-07:00

In body but not spirit. I will upload my photos and weave a tale around them, but its going to have to wait until the weekend. Until then, all y'all are going to have to sit on the edge of your seats.

Chez Anderson Nouveau

2006-05-02T17:17:00.000-07:00

I just shipped off my lease to my new apartment, thus fulfilling #57 on my list of 200587 Things to do. Sweet! You can see it here. 2 Bedrooms, 950+ square feet, indoor parking, insuite washer/dryer, and right across the street from the College. And saving a trip to Edmonton! As a finders fee, Lynne will have her own bedroom, which will also serve as my den/office/guitar room.

And now I'm trying to get all my other forms off, now that I have an Alberta address. Turns out: not going to be nearly as trivial as I was expecting. Seeing as I've never actually 'moved' anywhere substantial, I keep forgetting that this will involve getting a new health card, drivers licence, vehicle registration, insurance... yada yada, nada nada.

Surf, baby.

Speaking of which... I'm off to Florida. Take my mind off of things. Expect pictures.

Things I Will Miss: Vol. III

2006-04-29T14:46:00.000-07:00

The British. Oh, how I will miss the British. Most of you know that since I have moved to Toronto, I have developed an affinity for British people. This is largely due to 3 reasons:

1. There are an inordinate number of Vision Scientists who are from England. I really don't know why this is. But I have noticed that other fields in psychology don't seem to attract the British nearly as much. And seeing as I work at one of the largest vision research places in North America, there are a lo' o' Brits walking our halls.

2. Since Ryan has moved to England, I have realized that I am all about the British culture. After having visited him, and ensconcing myself in the British Academic environment for a couple of weeks, I realize that England is the place that I never knew I wanted to be. I did not discover this until the ripe age of 30. Any people who find it socially acceptabile to go to the pub every night after work are OK by me.

3. Cleavers. That chick has draped herself in the Union Jack. And has introduced me to more expats than I can name.

The fact that I may not find a British group in Edmonton actually has me quite worried. I am not allowed to admit that I have trolled the internet for a couple of hours looking for a British expat meetup group in Edmonton. Cleavers would lose it if she found out I did that. Unfortunately, there are no such groups in Edmonton that I can find, and can not therefore 'randomly' show up at a British meetup meeting at a pub, practicing my accent. Maybe I'll start one up, and have Cleavers and DrBoobs come for a visit and pretend to be members.

At least nobody will give me shit for having a bad English Accent.

PS... As you can see, I'm not dead. Just stupid busy between work and starting to organize my move.

Things I Will Miss: Vol. II

2006-04-17T21:05:00.000-07:00

After a long day at work (and a long weekend of work for that matter), I decided that the evening was too nice to enjoy inside of my dusky old apartment. This necessitated a phone call to Philly to search for a patio. We settled on the Green Room, a well kept 'secret' amongst the locals that could possibly be possibly the best bar in the Tdot for value and ambience. A beer on the patio sounded like a fine way to finish off a harried Monday indeed.

So a smidge past 7, I found myself walking along Bloor from the Spadina subway station, lost in my thoughts of poster organization and data interpretation, when I realized that I was walking through a throng of people who were looking up. This doesn't happen that often, so I stopped and followed the gaze of the other pedestrians to the top of the buildings located across the road. I didn't see a damned thing. I spent at least a minute searching for the focus of said group, and in the end decided that it was a mass Social Psych experiment that I would not be a part of. So off I went, intent on completing the task at hand.

As is always the case, I enjoyed a couple of hours of conversation, relaxation and general social time with Philly, and later Psycho and Cleavers. We decided to leave around 10:30 to go and view Cleavers new apartment. Walking down Bloor, we realized that there was still a mass of people. All looking up. The group now, however, was much larger, and included a group of police officers and firefighters (this is what caught Cleavers' attention, of course). And, around a lamp post, there was a newly formed pile of cardboard boxes and blankets. There was even a protester, with a sign that said "Even A Stripper Couldn't Stay Up a Pole This Long".

Which of course sent our eyes to the top of the lamp post.

There, stuck on the top of the lamp post, was a raccoon. He had done himself a fine job in garnering a shitload of attention, I tell you what. Poor thing was obviously scared shitless. But how in the hell did he get himself to the top of a pole? It was a good 30-40 feet from the top of the closest building, and a good 70 feet high. The general consensus was that it may have resulted from a dare made at his bachelor party. We figured his racoon buddies were probably sitting round the corner, sniggering to themselves and wondering how pissed his raccoon-wife-to-be would be when he didn't show up at the wedding.

While I'm sure that Edmonton is full of nice a lovely people, I have a feeling that I will never walk down a street, see at LEAST 20 Emergency Crew workers, 60-70 anxious onlookers, a news crew (CTV), and a protester, all anxiously awaiting the fate of an animal most consider to be a pest stuck on the top of a lamp post. For at least 3.5 hours.

The sad thing is I'm checking the news sites to see if they've got him down yet.

And Cleavers' apartment is lovely. I have some great accomodations when I come home to visit, I tell you what.

Happy Easter!

2006-04-13T13:13:00.000-07:00

Smells Like VSS

2006-04-11T15:36:00.000-07:00

Certain times of year are associated with certain activities. Oftentime, I find that the change in season will elicit some sort of visceral memo that events are about to take place. The first true day of spring, where I don't mock those who don shorts to go outside, used to be an indication that school was over and that I would have to start work soon (this was many, many years ago, when work included a hard-hat, shovel and safety goggles). As such, I used to have a love/hate association with the first true indication of summer.

Now, however, the first warm day is a new CS. In fact, it is a CS for VSS (I'm a poet, and, well, you get the picture). This is the time of year when all vision scientists scramble to finish collecting data for our Mecca. The halls are buzzing with people running in and out of labs asking "Will you be a subject for me? Please? I'll buy you beer...". UberGeek is usually a mess. All are wracked with insecurity regarding their results. And the poster machine is busy mentally preparing himself for 96 solid hours of work.

But for all the stress and insecurity that this time of year elicits, there is also an undercurrent of excitement. This is of course for two reasons: the first (and more mature) of which is the anticipation of learning new and exciting research being conducted within the field. Yes, there is nothing that fosters academic creativity more than 5 solid days of nothing but vision-speak. The second (and decidedly less mature) reason is because of the Good Times to be had by all. I've even got my glow-in-the-dark t-shirt that will be donned for Club Vision. UberGeek is jealous, as he may not be belle of the ball this year.

Yes, today was the first day that smelled like VSS. Let the good times roll.

For Hessels

2006-04-04T10:02:00.000-07:00

I am a bitch.

I am putting this out there for all to see... to admit that I am a total retard and deserve to be drawn and quartered. Hessels is a queen however, and I don't deserve to even wipe her ass if given the opportunity.

I would humiliate myself for you more buddy, but I don't know how. If there is something else you wish me to do, I am yours for the bidding.

I am sorry. I have apparently lost some imperative brain cells.

Things I Will Miss: Vol. I.1

2006-04-03T23:19:00.000-07:00

To finish of point #4 below... I will miss going to see bands like South in small venues like Lee's Palace, because then it will be more difficult to get gifts from Philly, like a pair of signed underwear from the band. Please note the signatures of said underwear in the following pictures, purchased for me to hang in my office as a going away present (3 months before, I might add. Does she want me to leave this badly?):

Back:

and Front:

Please notice the British irony that has been incorporated into said autograph.

Yes, good times were had all around. The concert was made that much more entertaining by the random dancing chick who poured the bassist's beer down the front of her shirt onstage and the porn that was being played for the band surruptiously on a Mac backstage (we had good seats). What a great, great concert. Good random Monday nights are fun indeed.

Things I Will Miss: Vol. I

2006-04-03T17:53:00.000-07:00

It's funny; while I had always yearned to move to Toronto for a couple of years since leaving my hometown, I always thought that I would always be a country girl at heart. But now, after being a Torontonian for 2.5 years, I realize that this city has slowly and surely woven through me.

This weekend, the fact that I am leaving Toronto really started to hit. I started being more cognizant of things that I am going to really miss about this city. Friends, family and certain hangouts are, of course, a given, and I'm not even going to start thinking of leaving those behind yet lest I turn into a quivering mess for the next 3 months. But I am going to start appreciating some of the little things that I can't bring with me to Edmonton.

1. The greatest cheese shop in North America, located in the heart of Kensington Market, is Global Cheese. This has got to be the only place where you can walk in with $10, and walk out with 3 lbs of cheese and change to boot. If you don't know if you will like the exotic flavours that they offer, then you can ask for as many samples as your heart desires (yesterday I sampled a lovely Dutch soft mushroom cheese that was selling for $3.99/lb). And when you've loaded up with cheese, you can walk across the street and celebrate your dairy conquer at Graffiti's. What a wonderful way to spend a weekend afternoon.

2. When I moved to Toronto, I decided that I would optimize my living location to take advantage of downtown (Thank God). But as a result, I have to commute 45 minutes to work each day. I initially thought that I would utilize this time to read papers, write, and possibly program (hence the laptop). Instead, I have discovered that the commute is my favorite me-time. Before walking out the door, I take a great deal of time deciding which album I will listen to on my iPod (the overall trip takes just over an album... I have started keeping track of time in terms of music). I walk the 3 minutes to the subway, trying to make it to the other end of the platform before the next train gets in (to optimize time by getting onto the car that brings me straight to the escalator at Downsview). When I get on the car, I search for a copy of the Metro. This is how I stay in touch with world events. The Metro is a free paper (that actually has a larger readership than any other daily in Canada) that people can pick up outside the subway. When they are finished, they leave it on the seat for the next rider to read. It takes me exactly the subway ride to read the Metro cover to cover, whereupon I leave it on the seat again for the next consumer. This is how I start every morning.

3. My first year here, I was afraid of the ladies at Tim Horton's on campus. They just seemed, well, bitter. This was a harsh contrast to the loverly ladies that ran the Tim Horton's kiosk at Mac in the Health Sciences centre. However, over the years, it seems that I have won them over with my charm (well, and Kevin too). When I show up, the scowl on their face is removed and I get a great big 'Hello Sweetheart!'. If Kevin is not with me, they ask where he is, whilst making the black large coffee that I don't even have to ask for anymore. I love the fact that we have won them over and that we bring sunshine to their day.

4. Last for this list, I'm going to miss getting a phone call at 9:47 from Philly, to go down to Lee's Palace to go and see a show at 10:30. Which is what I'm going to do now. So I need to put some pants on. The band is South. I recommend them.

This is Worth a Second Blog

2006-03-29T08:34:00.000-08:00

Jen has already blogged about this. But a movie like this comes around only a few times in one's lifetime, it really is worth as much promotion as possible.

This all started for me a couple of months ago when I got a mass email with the following promotional poster:

There wasn't much discussion in the text of the email regarding the joke that this poster was referring to, so I had to simply admit to myself that I didn't get it. "Why would somebody super-impose a picture of Sam Jackson with a plane? And then write shit all over it?" I thought to myself. Thinking that I was just too pedestrian to understand this decidedly cerebral mocking of Sam Jackson, I just let it go and forgot about it.

Months later, I discovered it's funny because it's true. 'Snakes on a Plane' is in fact a real movie starring Samuel L. Jackson due for release this summer. Apparently, there were discussions regarding the name: one was 'S. O. A. P.', which stands for 'Snakes on a Plane'. But apparently Sam Jackson got angry and said that when he signed up to do the movie, he was told it would be called 'Snakes on A Plane'. So. Snakes on A Plane it stayed. It has already won the award from S.A.G. for the worst movie of 2006 based on the promotional poster and plot summary alone.

I have been crying with laughter for the past 20 minutes.

A Smile on the Subway

2006-03-19T16:35:00.000-08:00

I got onto the subway this morning at around 10 am. The Yonge/University line is blissfully quiet on Sunday mornings: at best, you are looking at 5 people sharing the car with you. This makes for focused people watching indeed.

At St. George station, a man boarded my car. This man was pushing a dog (looked like some sort of terrier) in a covered baby carriage, and was follwed by 4 pomeranians of all shapes and sizes. The pomeranians were unleashed, and ran wildly up and down the car. Noone was annoyed, because realistically, these are the funniest fuckin' dogs in the world. I couldn't stop laughing at them running up and down the aisle on those short little stubby legs, getting all excited about meeting new people. The poor terrier in the carriage could only watch as these little pom-poms ran gaily up and down, barking merrily all the way.

At Spadina station, the man got up, said 'Come on Guys!', and pushed his carriage off, with the pomeranians scrambling to follow him off the car. It was a short lived moment, but I've been laughing about it all day.

And thinking of buying a pomeranian.

God they're funny lookin'.

My New Shopping Obsession

2006-03-16T08:06:00.000-08:00

As of about 7:00 pm this evening, I am going to be the proud new owner of a pair of black Chuck Taylor high tops. Since going and seeing the Subways on Saturday evening, I have not been able to get them out of my mind.

Many of you have experienced my shopping obsessions. Case in point: the pair of green corduroy Ikeda overalls that I HAD to have in 1998. I never found them, but did drag many people in and out of stores with lightening speed to try and find some. 2003 saw me go through my sand-coloured Ugg debaucle, which again, was never realized. I regret not owning a pair of proper Ugg knee highs to this day. I also spent quite a bit of time in 2004 looking for a tunic.

But I know that the black Chuck Taylors are going to be easy to find. They just have to be. I know that I've seen them in many sporting goods stores for several years, as I have always looked fondly at them and remembered my old red Chuck Taylors of yore. If I can't find them, I'm going to be rightly pissed. I'm already envisioning a roaring karaoke session this evening at Mayday's with my Chucks on my dogs.

A Blast from the Literary Past

2006-03-13T10:41:00.000-08:00

On the daily coffee pilgramage, Seema, Jen and I got talking about our favorite books while growing up (Seema can't remember any of hers: apparently we can blame this on the fact that she is brown. However, she did eventually come up with Bridge to Terabithia, possibly the most depressing childrens' book ever written). Jen described hers, which I can't remember as I have never read it, but has to do with Unicorns in another land.

This brought me to mine, which was Lizard Music by Daniel Pinkwater. If you have never read this book (as I suspect most of you have not), then I suggest trying to get your mitts on it. Reading this book helps provide a little insight into my generation, who grew up ensconced in Free Love, Macrame, and Children's books written by Pot-heads. I mean, this is a book about a kid who loves Walter Cronkite and who finds an invisible island inhabited by giant lizards that jam late at night on this kid's television. How much acid was this guy on?

What a great book. What makes me sad is that it would probably never fly in this day and age, as any editor would read it and promptly realize that the writer was on crack. There is no way that he came up with this shit sober. And since stoned authors don't make for good book signings at Chapters or Barnes and Noble, no publishing company would likely touch this manuscript with a 10 foot pole.

Sometimes I'm glad that I grew up in the time that I did. Before all this political correctedness.

A Brief Rant

2006-03-09T10:19:00.000-08:00

Do you know what pisses me off to no end? Lazy people. Seeing as my travels have become largely dependent upon elevators, I am starting to truly observe the shear laziness of some members of the population. Case in point: the elevator in the Computer Science Building. This has GOT to be the world's slowest elevator... no exaggeration. I have never taken it, as it is so damned slow, and because there are only 4 floors in the building.

But the number of people who take it, and make me waste my time because I am now FORCED to wait, makes me want to vomit.

Seriously, these are 20 year olds that are perfectly healthy that are taking it up or down one floor. Meaning that it triples the amount of time it takes me to take it. My blood pressure rises just thinking about it. I want to slap them upside the head with a crutch.

And don't even get me started about the people who take the elevators in the TTC system.

On an up note, I have rediscovered 'Living on the Edge' by Aerosmith. That's my new pump-up song. I love rediscovering songs.

And on a related note, I would like to point out that both Sandra and Christine possess more iPods than I do. This will be rectified in the next couple of months.

65% And Climbing

2006-03-06T14:48:00.000-08:00

Slowly but surely, life is returning to normal. I'm getting a bit more mobile, I can attend social events, and can stay awake for 12 hours on end. Now, all I need is for the mental capacity to return and all will be right with the world.

As promised, Saturday was a brilliant reintroduction back into the social scene. Even better, as it started a wee bit earlier than normal. I was in the pub by 4:00, greeted by none other than LMD and Dr. Prince. A beer in hand, a stablizing chair, and thus the night began. We saw the Kensington Hillbillies, a fantastic Twang band that was nothing short of excellent. How can a band with five (count 'em f-i-v-e) guitarists go wrong? Mike showed up about 1/2 hour later; Chris, Jamie and Mark (yet another Brit introduced into the mix) an hour after that. And thus it began.

At one point, I was outside (Yes, smoking. I admit it. I was celebrating. And damnit, I felt like smoking), talking to a nice rastafarian man who told me I looked *soft* and that I *deserved a man who treated me right* (it was the crutches that drew him in). Whilst trying to pull myself from this conversation, I noticed a couple walk into the pub where the guy looked familiar. I followed them back in, promptly forgot about them, and was drawn back to the band. About 5 minutes later however, Mike turned around and said 'Hey! Isn't that the guy we went to see a few weeks ago?" I didn't even have to look: he was right. Turns out, Matt Barber walked into Graffitti's with a date. Now, understand that Graffitti's is a really small bar, and by this point, we were pretty much the only people left in the bar. Before I could say boo, Mike said to him "Hey! We went to see you at the Bluebird North show a couple of weeks ago! This is your biggest fan!". I tried to downplay my obsession by telling him that I had all his albums. Oh, and I did mention that I checked out his website every couple of weeks or so. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that he was getting laid after that (To be fair, the girl he was with was very nice, and was probably his girlfriend. But I still like to think that we made him look that much hotter in her eyes). Ah, the good random Saturday afternoon.

We booked it around 7 and went to the Tap, where the drinking continued. Vicki and Mark, Mary and Adrienne, Michelle, Sarah W. and FINALLY Boston Sarah (who decided to have a couple of shots before leaving home to catch up and came in all pissed up) all staggered in at various points in the evening. Unfortunately, I don't have too much recall of much of the rest of the night (I especially realized this after looking at Michelle's pictures... I don't remember the pitcher incident AT ALL), but I blame that largely on the fact that I was ridiculously tired. In fact, we left at midnight, as I couldn't stay awake a minute longer. So even though it may *seem* like I was incredibly irresponsible, I was responsible enough to get myself in bed in a reasonable hour. And I didn't even have a patented Anderson hangover the next day. Although I was pretty knackered.

Don and Eva came to take care of me yesterday and drive me to work this morning. It felt like the first day of school, where my parents had to make sure I made it in OK. This is when I realized that, while I am physically getting better, I'm still pretty far behind mentally (insert obvious joke here). And so I was only able to put in a half day, because the effort of TTCing it home with crutches seemed overwhelming. And sitting at my desk for more than 4 hours was just, well, sucky. So I came home. But I'll go back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. There's science to be done.

Although something tells me that I won't be the one doing it.

All is Right With the World

2006-03-03T21:01:00.000-08:00

My remote has been located. Philly found it lodged behind my bed. Yes, I've been watching my TV from bed. Phew.

Of all the...

2006-03-03T09:58:00.000-08:00

...I just lost my god-damned remote. I've been looking for it for the past hour. It's not in its favorite place (i.e. nestled on the couch beside me). Where in the bloody hell could it be? Of all the times for this to happen. Shit.

And it Just Keeps Getting Better...

2006-03-03T06:40:00.001-08:00

Here's Leftie now (you can thank Michelle for showing me how to wrap my blog text around my uploaded pictures... man I've been doing things the hard way). As you can see, he's looking pretty sad. I don't think that Leggs is going to contact him to sport pantyhose in the new catalogue anytime soon. The good thing is that I am no longer on painkillers to keep him satiated. WOOHOO. Recovery is eminent. I should be good to go for going into school on Monday. Which is good, as I haven't done a lick of work since last week. But I think I have an excuse: I've been in a bit of fog for the past week and a half, and any work that I would have done would have been piss-poor at best. So might as well focus my energy on getting better, so that I can get back in the saddle on Monday. Kalloo - Kallee.

Also, since I'm off the painkillers, I am allowed to imbibe tomorrow. Sweet. This is what has been getting me through the week. Its going to be a fun, fun day, I tell you what. I may be slower than normal, but as I discovered last night, my tolerance level seems to have plummetted (after one glass of wine I was fuzzy), which should make for a good cheap day indeed.

The throng of well-wishers has just kept coming: Stink came on Wednesday and spent the afternoon keeping me occupied (i.e. helping me do my laundry). She was also here when I got the call from Russ, so that was good, as I was able to express my excitement to someone other than Eek. And I got some Chinese Food (God bless the banada soft cake), which is always a bonus. And a care package from Christine and the Eatons, which included a get well card from Abby and homemade cookies.

Yesterday, Chris and Vicki stopped by after their squash game. Each was sporting a button that said "Beat York". I wasn't on board. They thought I would laugh, but I was just confused. I blame the drugs. For some reason, I thought they were trying to get my goat, but all I could think was "Fuck yeah, kick York's ass". But now that the buttons are on my table, I'm laughing (OK, I'm a little slow). Maybe I'll put them on my backpack. Michelle showed up a few minutes later with ingredients for an absolutely fantabulous Green Curry, some of which remains in my Fridge and promises to make a most excellent lunch. We also got involved in "Deal or No Deal", a game show that Kevin expounded a few months ago. The ruck trying to make probabilistic decisions when millions of dollars are involved: always the recipe for a good diatribe amongst scientists.

And so today will be my last weekday at home. Joey and Pacey just informed Dawson that they have fallen in love, which of course makes my heart ache for Dawson. Tommy Boy is on right now (Fat guy in a little coat...). Phrilly is coming over tonight. That is my day.

I am also going to spend the day starting a list of things that I'm going to have to think about in the next 4 months. I called Russ yesterday to officially say 'yes', and we started to discuss my needs. I have already requested an iMac (woohoo!! Intel processor) and Matlab (apparently they have a site licence for Photoshop with the Marketing Folk... Phew, that saves $800). Also a list of journals I would like to see in the library. And a Mac for the testing room. Sweet.

I'm also going to have to start thinking of textbooks.

And other software that I will need.

And where I will live.

And when I will move.

And how I will get there.

And how I'm going to finish everything up here.

Fuck.

I need a drink.

Phrilly is not allowed to purchase Goldschlager for me, because I have already had one to celebrate Edmonton, as evidenced by the before:

and after:

images (I just found these and realized I had not yet given proof that Lynne actually DID buy shots the night we called). But tomorrow. Tomorrow. Ahhh... tomorrow.

Can you tell I'm looking forward to it?

The Phone Call Came...

2006-03-01T11:35:00.000-08:00

I got the Offer. July 1st. Edmonton.

ick Update

2006-03-01T09:15:00.000-08:00

Just because its gross, here's how my left leg is doing now:

I like to call him "Leftie". He's pretty sad.

I was starting to feel like a p*ssy, as I figured that I'd be doing jumping jacks byt the 6th day, not bruising like a mofo (the BEST bruising is under the knee, as all the blood is settling there because I haven't gotten my ass off the couch much). But then I went onto a bunch of ACL discussion sites to see what others were saying. Some were saying that their doctors told them they wouldn't be back at work in 6 weeks. So I guess a week and a half is OK.

My goal now is to wean meself off the percocet and purely stick to the anti-inflammatroy medication, as there is drinkin' to be done on Saturday.

I may cry at the sweet, sweet taste of Keith's.

I Spoke Too Soon

2006-02-27T12:44:00.000-08:00

I'm gonna have to learn that just because I feel better doesn't mean I am better. Today I'm in more pain again. Damnit. Gonna have to keep on the crutches and drugs a bit longer. This also may mean that I'm not going to head into work at all this week.

On an up note, I finally got to relish a shower this afternoon. Eek is much happier, as I don't smell as bad. But I'm more tired now, and I'm going to have a take another nap.

Oh... and Lynfa showed up last night with Saw II... if you saw (boo...) the first one, then I would highly recommend the second one. A little more disturbing, and a good sequel indeed.

Back in the Land of Consciousness

2006-02-26T11:04:00.000-08:00

Lucidity: check. Today is my first day back in reality and it feels GREAT. I've spent the past 3 days floating in and out of sleep (thank-you Percocet!) and in various states of pain. But I'm happy to report, today the pain is minimal, and I am in fact hobbling about my apartment now without crutches. The bad news is... this is when the restlessness will start to set in.

Permit me some before and after pictures:

BEFORE:

(amazing how taking a picture of your own leg makes you feel ridiculously fat)

NOW:

(see that gauze up on my thigh? For some reason, they went in there)

Tomorrow, I get to take the gauze off. Which means I get to shower. Thank God. The whole sponge bath thing ain't that fun... nor that effective really. I will also finally get a sense of what *exactly* they have done to me, and what type of scars I'm going to have from it. Until now, its been relatively easy to trick myself into thinking that I've just sprained my knee... which is good because actually thinking that they went in with knives, cut out pieces of tendon and screwed them into other places makes me feel a little faint. I'm also going to get a look at the bruising. Until this morning, the only bruises that I had were on my hand from the I.V. But now, I can see some nasty-ass bruises starting to spread from under the gauze. An adventure it will be indeed.

Luckily, I've had plenty of company until this point. Jen and Mark have stopped by every day (offering to get me anything and bringing a bunch of DVDs), and I think I may head over to theirs at some point today to play Scrabble. Eva stayed until Friday afternoon... she left just in time, I think. She was really becoming all... well... motherlike. Which I don't deal well with. But it was useful for the first 24 hours, as I couldn't move my leg at all and needed her to move it for me to get up. But when she said "Maybe I should stay a few more days..." that got me moving alright. Like a mofo. I was even able to get up to see her out the door. But she made plenty of soup that is now in my fridge for the next couple of days.

A half hour after Eva was out the door, Michelle (aka Biatch) was round for the evening. God bless 'er. She made good on her promise to bake while I was stoned, and I awoke from my percocet coma to the smell of banana bread (both with and without chocolate chips) emanating from my kitchen. And we watched "Some Kind of Wonderful". And the first DVD from Season 1 of Arrested Developement. Vik and Mark stopped by, but that would be about the time that the pain-killer was wearing off, and I was quickly starting to fade into a painful haze. More percocet, said goodnight to all, and floated into more sleep.

Yesterday was mainly spent sleeping. For every hour I was awake, I would guesstimate that I was asleep for about 2. Michelle had organized an entertainment day full of British comedy to keep me occupied, but seeing as I could barely stay awake, and walking to the washroom (about 6 feet) would result in a required hour nap, I thought that going over to her place and walking the fuck-off amount of stairs to get there would not be prudent at that point in my recovery. So sadly, the Anderson Entertainment committee had to convene without Anderson there. But I think they got drunk, so they ended up entertaining themselves. Instead, Mike popped over to keep me occupied. And so, the evening saw me asleep on the couch with the Olympics playing in the background. And seeing as he had spent the evening before curling, he too fell asleep quite readily, thus making me feel less guilty. Loverly. We ended up sleeping for 13 hours, which it turns out, was exactly what was required for me to return to almost normal.

And so, I'm now awake and relatively pain free. I've only taken one pain killer so far today, which is great. The problem is: this is when I'm going to get antsy. I've already started calling people, and I've got plenty more that I will call later. I'm still in my brace, but will probably start taking it off more by tomorrow. I have a ball of yarn that will soon become a dishcloth, and I'm going to get back on to reading Memoirs of a Geisha. I've decided that no matter what, I won't return to work until at least Thursday, to ensure that my recuperation stays on track. I've brought work home anyways... might as well take advantage of this time to chillax.

Yep, in about 6 hours, I'll be going crazy. But I've already started to look forward to next Saturday, which will be my first foray back into the social world. And for good reason: Simon's back in town. A fine reason to return indeed.

OOOOOOwww

2006-02-23T18:39:00.000-08:00

It hurts. I can hardly move. I'm pretty much stuck on the couch. Going to the can sucks. But you know what doesn't suck?

Morphine.

Mmmmm. Morphine.

Crazy's Gettin' Some Lovin'

2006-02-21T15:07:00.000-08:00

Crazy across the hall seems to have a male friend. He's been there since the weekend, and talks as loud (and slow) as she does. Now, normally I would be happy for her, because really, who doesn't deserve companionship? Unfortunately, however, this new relationship is just, well, gross.

Jen informed me that, while I was gone over the weekend, many residents heard Crazy discussing (yelling) inappropriate things from the confines of her apartment. Example snippets:

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? SHOULD I TAKE MY PANTS OFF?"

And even better:

"SMELL MY FINGERS. DO THEY SMELL LIKE FISH TO YOU?"

I shit you not.

Eew.

Fucking FUNNIEST Thing...

2006-02-21T08:27:00.000-08:00

We were just sent outside for a second fire alarm (there are midterms being written in the building... godamned people... don't they understand that they will STILL have to write the exam at some point???). Kevin and I had decided to go and purchase a coffee during the first fire alarm. Which was unfortunate for him.

We are standing outside enjoying said coffee, when Kevin decides to take it upon himself and breathe and swallow at the same time. Sufficed to say, this did not work.

In fact, it resulted in the best full-on spray out I have ever seen in my life. Of hot coffee. I had a front row seat, and was able to actually see the copious amounts of hot coffee that came out his nose. As did many other faculty members and students.

I'm sure that it hurt, but I didn't have a chance to check with him as I was busy bent over laughing harder than I've laughed before.

He's not dead, so I stand by my indifference.

And Home Again

2006-02-20T13:02:00.000-08:00

It all seems like a dream. Was I ever really gone? Did I really make it through this alive? Was I really that stressed for the past several weeks? Yes, yes and yes. And now all I can do is wait. Sigh. At least there's nothing I can do at this point. Either they want me or don't: either way, I survived, and think that I still ended up smelling like roses on the other side.

The rest of the trip was fantabulously relaxing. I am now the proud new owner of several pairs of comfy pants that should fit effortlessly over that nasty brace that I will be sporting by the end of the week. Lynne and I also went to see Brokeback Mountain on Saturday night. Its as good as they say.

I also learned a critical life lesson on Friday night: just because Phrilly is not with you does NOT mean that you will get out of doing shots. I made the mistake of putting her on the phone with Lynne for what ended up being at least 5 minutes. When I got the phone back, Phrilly had already hung up without saying goodbye. When I asked Lynne what they talked about (they have never met), Lynne basically said "Mind your business", and stepped away from the table. When she came back, she had two shots of Goldschlager. Bitch. Times 2.

My flight was delayed by over an hour coming home (stupid Air Canada... I don't like them anymore and WILL NOT defend them during cocktail conversation). But thankfully, Mike offered to pick me up from the airport, and as such I was not nearly as much the crotchety old bitch that I may have been. God bless him. That also meant that I got sushi when I got home. Brilliant.

And after doing jack-shit today at work, I am off home to start compiling a collection of clothing that I will be able to don at the end of the week. Its funny, starting to think about how this surgery will actually affect my life... I will have a very difficult time showering, which will be unfortunate. I will have to carefully contemplate what I will wear. And I will have a difficult time TTCing it around this city. I'm not going to do well with being laid up, I can tell you that. But at least Michelle will be my bitch.

Brilliant.

Greetings From Edmonton

2006-02-17T10:29:00.000-08:00

It is done. I have survived my first full-on academic interview. And boy, am I tired. In fact, it is 11:29am (1:29 Ontario time), and I am still on Lynne's couch, under the duvet, watching TV and surfing the web. I haven't really moved. I have a stain on the front of my PJ shirt, but I don't care enough to get my ass off the couch and do anything about. And so it shall stay.

To say that yesterday was a long day would be an understatement. I was picked up from the hotel by the department chair at 7:30am, and left dinner with the hiring committee (+Honey) at 8:30pm. And it was packed in between. Arranged meetings with people, discussing the program, how my research would fit in, everything is a bit of a blur now. I also had an hour and a half panel interview that I did not realize that I would have until I was actually sitting down for it. Probably best that way, as I would have become ridiculously nervous if I had've known about it before-hand.

And everything went great.

I am very jealous of Lynne's working environment. The people here are fantastic and everyone is enthusiastic about what they do. The Chair is great... he really seems to have the interests of all of his department members as his upmost priority. The way that they are developing their new honours program is also really, really cool (again, largely thanks in part to the devotion of Honey herself). There is a very, very heavy teaching load, but I am up for the challenge. Bring it on, I say, bring it on. Since there is no-one that does perception here, I would become the resident expert, a rarity in the academic circles these days.

My talk went well... thankfully everyone here has general interests, and so they seemed to not only follow my research talk but actually enjoy it (*shock, gasp*). While I was nervous for the first 10 minutes or so, the sight of Honey's bobbing grinning head from the back row gave me confidence, and the talk ended up being more of a discussion. Again, I think this will help in the long run as it showed that I could talk TO and not AT people. Oh, and the fact that the 'external' member of the 5 member hiring committee was an engineer didn't hurt matters either... we talked Matlab, and even discussed the possibility of introducing a course in Matlab in one of the departments. This would be especially useful, as they are planning on having honours students select their 3rd and 4th year courses on recommendations from their honours advisor (who will be selected at the beginning of their 3rd year). I could then develop a system of programming minions. And work towards my eventual goal of taking over the world.

And so now I must wait. They will be making their decision at the end of next week. Now it will all depend on my competition, and whether or not the department is willing to risk hiring someone who has never taught before. Everything else should be working in my favour. I have tempered hope.

And now I get to spend the next 48 hours with Honey. Brilliant.

Neglectful, I am

2006-02-14T08:04:00.000-08:00

Life has been sucked away over the past couple of weeks, taken up with interview preparation, doctor's appointments, manuscript revisions (accepted now! Booyeah.) and of course social events (for some reason, there has been an increase in karaoke activity). As such, I have not blogged.

But never fear!

I am not dead.

Although I may be in a couple of days.

I'm off to Edmonton now, quaking in my boots. Will I be a total tard? Will I embarass Lynne? I hope not. Damnit, I'm going to have to find SOMEONE to employ me. I'm 31 years old for Christ sake! Time to get me a job.

Copying the Copying Copying of Cleavers

2006-02-07T10:22:00.000-08:00

Today ain't that productive, so instead I'll mimic Honey and Cleavers .

4 Jobs That I Have Had:

1. Deli Counter Girl at Staffen's Foodmarkets
2. Piano Teacher (I made a kid cry)
3. Yard Crew at St. Marys Cement Plant (which included gravel shovelling and heavy equipment operation... God I loved that job)
4. Lab Peon

4 Films I Can Watch Over and Over:

1. Zoolander
2. Dumb and Dumber (but NOT Dumb and Dumberer, as I have unfortunately discovered post-purchase)
3. Contact
4. The Big Lebowski

4 Places I Have Lived:
[This has got to be the most unromantic list of all time: and I'm not excluding any due to space limitations either]
1. St. Marys, Ontario
2. London, Ontario
3. Hamilton, Ontario
4. Toronto, Ontario

4 Foods I Like:

1. Shrimp: especially of the 'cocktail' variety
2. Any sort of dried meat product
3. Tuna (canned, raw, steak, whatever)
4. Candy from Christine's coffee table

4 Things to Do Before I Die:

1. Follow Lynne's lead and become a Nutty Professor (though my classification will likely end up being a Window-Licking Professor)
2. To attain the appropriate level of maturity to recognize that Buffet does NOT mean challenge
3. To play the guitar on stage
4. Get Cleavers to do a Canadian accent

4 Places I'd Rather Be:

1. Slainte's
2. The Tap
3. The Ceeps
4. The Duke of York

Best Bumper Sticker Ever.

2006-02-07T07:57:00.000-08:00

No Question.

Oh... and I finally asked Bretzky what the name for a "Lacrosse Bunny" was...

I knew it was funny.

Really funny.

Ready?

It's a "Lacrosstitute".

Trouble at the Fitzwilliam

2006-02-06T09:16:00.000-08:00

On first read, I thought THIS may have been my brother. Sounds like something one of us would do. Upon careful inspection, however, I'm glad to report that this person was not related to an Anderson. Poor chap. Embarrassing enough: but to have it make American headline news, well, that just adds insult to injury.

Happy Monday!

Me No Likey Technology

2006-02-03T10:41:00.000-08:00

Bad News: Poindexter is Ill. In fact, Poindexter won't start. This means that I will not have a computer for a whole weekend. This does not suit me very well. When I took it to the tech (who is extremely competent), he said, and I quote "Hmm. I've never seen THIS before". That is not good. Not good at all. Especially given that I need him in order to give my talk in Edmonton in a couple of weeks. I hope he's OK, for both our sakes.

This problem prevented me from drunk blogging last night, unfortunately. Although Cleavers did. God Bless 'er.

We have found a new Thursday night haunt: Mayday Malone's on Bathurst at DuPont. The key ingredients:
1. Karaoke
2. Darts tournament (where Phrilly was invited to join a league... Go Banana!)
3. $4.35 pints
4. Walking distance.
all make it a fantastic choice indeed. Unfortunately, we got Phrilly to the Dance Cave a little too late to make her stick to her sobriety guns. Ah well.

This weekend will be full of sports and concerts... good times to be had by all. Kicking-off tomorrow morning at 9am, I'm heading to Skalliwags with the Brits to watch some Ruggers... then to Hugh's Room for dinner and Matt Barber/Peter Elkas/Valerie Gore discussions... and Sunday to Phrilly's to watch her cheer on her beloved Steelers for SuperBowl XL.

Maybe its best that I don't have Poindexter, as it would just make me feel guilty that I won't be doing any semblence of work this weekend.

A Bifta in a Stretch SUV

2006-01-29T19:39:00.001-08:00

Here's a picture. You may wonder how our evening ended, on the streets of Niagara Falls, with Cleavers commandeering an SUV/limo. I'm not sure I could take you there myself. But I can give you the ingredients necessary:

1. Cleavers
2. Copper
3. Three Rubber Duckies
4. A trip to the Casino buffett
5. Cleavers wearing a pineapple on her head at said buffett
6. Copper winning $125 at roulette whilst Cleavers and Anderson tried to be her voice of reason
7. A really, really cheesy nightclub
8. Booze

I'm not sure what the *exact* combination of each is, but it will eventually get you here:

I'm pissing myself.

More Evidence I Don't Want to Work on My Talk

2006-01-24T19:53:00.000-08:00

Instead, I waste my time taking internet quizzes. Take it yourself! See if you're as cool as I am (although I'm wondering: does it change my ranking if I am trying to figure out why the percentages don't add up? 69% of what I wonder?)

Modern, Cool Nerd
69 % Nerd, 69% Geek, 34% Dork

For The Record:

A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.

A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.

A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.

You scored better than half in Nerd and Geek, earning you the title of: Modern, Cool Nerd.

Nerds didn't use to be cool, but in the 90's that all changed. It used to be that, if you were a computer expert, you had to wear plaid or a pocket protector or suspenders or something that announced to the world that you couldn't quite fit in. Not anymore. Now, the intelligent and geeky have eked out for themselves a modicum of respect at the very least, and "geek is chic." The Modern, Cool Nerd is intelligent, knowledgable and always the person to call in a crisis (needing computer advice/an arcane bit of trivia knowledge). They are the one you want as your lifeline in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire (or the one up there, winning the million bucks)!

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 76% on nerdiness
You scored higher than 91% on geekosity
You scored higher than 61% on dork points

Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Grumble. And Its Only Tuesday.

2006-01-24T06:55:00.000-08:00

In my on/off relationship with the patch, I have had an on/off series of lucid dreams. But as wonderful as those wonderful dreams are, the lucid nightmares are much, much worse. Case in point: last night's nocturnal wanderings. I dreamt that Sandra and Christine were over and we were just hanging out. There was a knock on the door, and in walks my brother. That doesn't sound scary. But the fact that he had just had open heart surgery and left the operating table before he was put back together was a bit disturbing. I asked him what he was doing, and he said "I had to get back to work on my talk. I told them that you were a doctor and you could finish the rest of the job". So I had to reconnect some tissue and wait for the surgeon to make a house call to reattach his breast plate. As this was going on, he realized that he had forgotten a critical piece of tissue back at the hospital. As we were arguing about how to deal with this problem, Christine and Sandra, who had both been looking over my shoulder during the procedure, said "Oh, you Andersons. This would only happen to you."

Then I woke up.

What in the fuck could this mean? Maybe Ryan's going to get married or something.

Now this was 6:00 am. There was a good possibility that I could have gotten back to sleep for another couple of hours shut eye, but alas, it was not to be, as Crazy-Across-The-Hall decided to come out with the birds and start screaming again. At 6. In the fucking morning. It was brief, but still prevented me from getting back to sleep. As such, my ass was out of bed by 7. Damnit.

So I just called in a complaint about Crazy. That's the first time I've ever submitted a complaint about anything to anyone. But it turns out to be a good thing: apparently they had received a complaint last week from another resident. Unfortunately, the person who submitted the complaint thought it was the Superintedent who was Crazy (although I would never tell her so, the Super and Crazy look quite a bit alike). I was able to clarify this but emphatically stating "I am positive that it is the person who lives across the hall, as I can clearly hear every bloody thing she does". This clarification was good, as they had started an investigation into my Super (who is nice). I think I may have saved the Super's job.

All this, and its not even 10 am yet.

Public Service Announcement

2006-01-23T11:13:00.000-08:00

Today is voting day. I have been grappling with my voting stategy, and until 5 minutes ago was unsure as to how I would vote. My mind was made up after perusing THIS website. Wondering if your vote will count? Would you like to vote one way, but are concerned that your vote may contribute to the election of a man who looks like he may molest small dogs? This may help you make up your mind.

Waste Disposal

2006-01-22T10:05:00.000-08:00

I just got a notice in my door, as I often do, addressed to all residents of my building. The topic matter: waste disposal. Usually I don't read these things carefully, but this one I decided to take a glance at before I disposed of it (I wasn't going to flush it down my toilet, I swear). The following would be an excerpt from said notice:

"...We are encountering many problems as a result of the improper use of the newly installed toilets [note: we just got low-flow toilets a few months ago]. Many tenants are using the toilet to dispose of articles that the toilet was not designed to handle. This results in the toilet not flushing properly and the need to call the plumber to clear the toilet.

The following are some of the articles, which may not be disposed of, in the new toilets:

- Dental Floss
- Sanitary napkins
- Tampons
- Kitty Litter
- Flushable Kitty Litter
- Potatoes

..."

????

Potatoes?

Potatoes?

Who the hell flushes potatoes down their toilet?

And why just potatoes? What about other tubers? Or food-stuffs for that matter? Can I flush small servings of pasta? How about a can of soy beans?

I'm also trying to figure out how dental floss can fuck up the system. That must be one hell of a lot of dental floss (i.e. several containers) to plug up the toilet. And why wouldn't they optimize their list by having Kitty Litter (flushable or not) as one item? I'm not on board with Trivest's list, I tell you what. I have a feeling that this list may be geared towards Crazy across the hall. She just finished yelling about being celibate for 7 years. Didn't really need to know that.

Can you tell I'm trying to avoid writing an introduction to my talk?

Happy Fuzzy Thursday

2006-01-19T12:33:00.000-08:00

Operation Fuck-Up-Cleavers'-Mantra: Success. At this moment she is flying over our heads smelling a wee bit like liquor. Sweet. Unfortunately to get her to that state, I too had to imbibe a bit. The result is that my head feels like its stuffed with cotton, and I can't think too straight. I'm sure that Phrilly is feeling the same way, and I wonder whether she made it to her 9 am meeting. All in all, however, a small price to pay to make Cleavers travel with a hangover. Brilliant.

I am now officially scheduled to go under the knife. Mark February 23rd in your calendars folks: Anderson is going to be bed-ridden that weekend, and will probably annoy the fuck out of everyone with phone calls. Don and Eva offered to take me to Avonton for the weekend, but I do believe that would drive me stir-crazy. So instead, I will sit in my apartment, hope for visitors, and likely become the most annoying person in the world.

Crazy Lives Across the Hall

2006-01-17T16:59:00.000-08:00

I have a new neighbour. One that has just moved into the revolving apartment across the hall (I think that about 8 different people have lived there since I moved in, and I'm not speaking with hyperbole). I was here when she moved in, with help from her "special" friend (note that quotations only encapsulate special: yes, that's on purpose). She was very loud, and spoke with that slow and slightly cotton-filled drawl that only those with an IQ below 70 seem to possess.

So naturally, I thought she was retarded.

"That's nice", I thought to myself, "She has been given an opportunity to go out and live on her own. She must have acquired the necessary skills to be self sufficient and gain a sense of independence. So what if she lives across from me? If she needs any help, I'll be more than happy to give it to her. I like to help the mentally challenged whenever I can."

Turns out, she's not so much retarded as she is schizo.

And I don't mean schizo in the if-I-can't-get-a-hold-of-my-boyfriend-I'm-going-to-call-all-of-his-friends-and-friends'-friends-until-I-find-him schizo.

I mean she is a full blown schizophrenic. Big time.

Now, even though I am *technically* a psychology major, I know absolutely blue-fuck-fall about abnormal psychology. I never took it, taught it, nor TA'd it. My only exposure is through Lynne's (and once upon a blue moon Amy's) discussions of what was going on in class.

(sidenote: To be honest, until relatively recently, I had the naive opinion that most psychoses were just calls for help, and not anything that had any sort of true physical pathology (I've met a LOT of attention seekers in my day). I learned how stupid that opinion really was after seeing a friend going through a genuine manic phase. That shit is real. No question. And I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.)

So I have never seen a schizophrenic episode. That is, until the other night. I was sitting in my apartment, getting ready to watch "Pretty Woman", all bundled up in me PJs and wrapped in a blanket, when I hear:

"FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT. I DON'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS AND I NEED SOMEONE TO HELP ME"

It was obviously from across the hall (and I didn't realize until then until how truly non-sound-proof my apartment is: the rest of my neighbours must be quiet as mice). I thought there was an argument over the phone. However, this profanity went on for quite a while. But then it stopped. "Must be off the phone," I thought.

But then it came out into the hall. Right outside my door.

"I'M LOSING MY BAAABY. MY DEAD BAAABY IS TRYING TO COME OUT. JACOB'S TRYING TO COME OUT. I'VE GOT TO GIVE BIRTH TO A DEAD BABY. WON'T SOMEBODY HELP ME?"

Obviously, something is wrong. I was never concerned that she was actually having a miscarriage, as she had been yelling for quite a while, and I figured would have called an ambulance if that was actually the case. Nope, something else was going on there.

"PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP ME. I'M GIVING BIRTH TO MY DEAD BABY. I BEEN SHOT IN THE STOMACH. I HAVE NO FRIENDS AND FAMILY. WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME?"

For a brief moment, I thought about going out and helping her. I felt pretty bad... I thought about how it would be to have no friends or family, and became more empathetic indeed. This brief period of altruistic logic was quelled when she screamed:

"FUCK YOU ALL THEN. FUCK. YOU. NOBODY WANTS TO FUCKING HELP ME. FUCK YOU."

She then went back into her apartment, and started screaming from there again.

Now, this went on for 4 hours. She would periodically come out into the hallway and yell again. She knocked on my door a couple of times. Sometimes, she talked about her dead baby Jacob. Othertimes, she would yell at 'David', who was apparently in her apartment and wouldn't get out (she was, in fact, alone). She also brought out some pillows and a vase of flowers, so when she was sitting in the hall, she was at least comfortable. For a good deal of this time, my eye was glued to the peephole out of sheer curiosity (also, I had nothing better to do: I had to shut my TV off because I didn't want her to think I was home and I couldn't do any work over all that rigamorole).

Finally, at 11:30, the cops came and took her away to the rubber-room. I heard them ask her if she had taken her meds, and she said she hadn't because she had been drinking.

Ah. That was it.

I wonder how I'm going to deal with this in the future. She's home: I can hear her TV. I'll just have to make sure not to make eye contact.

Why You Should Not Do Shots

2006-01-15T16:36:00.000-08:00

Noone has ever given me a really good reason not to do shots. They taste so good, they go down so smooth, so if some other person buys them for you, then why not?

Well, because you may be out one night, after watching a rousing game of Lacrosse (Go Rock!).
You may meet someone.
That person may be very good-looking. Perhaps he even looks a bit like Chris Martin.
He may have what a great job with the one of the best and coolest companies in the world. Like Google. In Manhattan.
He may even (*shock, gasp*) seem to be genuinely interested in you. Perhaps you have a conversation about how cool statistics can be, without it ending with him saying "So... I have to go over here now..."

But then your friends buy you some shots.
And his friends buy you some shots.

And, while you can carry yourself well enough to know that you are not making an ass of yourself, you may, inadvertently, become just a little blonder. Maybe your intelligence is slightly masked. You may forget things.

And maybe, as you step into a cab after going with him and his friends for Chinese 'til 4am, it may take you 3 blocks until you realize that you didn't give him any contact information. Like an email address. Or a phone number. Or a last name.

And then you are stuck wondering if you gave him enough information to Google you successfully.

Now that wouldn't be very good, would it?

Moral of the story: you should not do shots.

An Open Letter For All Those Who have Mocked Me

2006-01-12T08:21:00.000-08:00

Not just for any reason of course: but for mocking me for my steadfast instistance that John Mayer is a great musician. Fucking brilliant. And he is, as is evidenced by his new album with the John Mayer Trio, the first song (Who Did you Think I Was) of which is presented on his web site. (Although my favorite is Another Kind of Green... try and get your mitts on that one if you get a chance).

That guitar. Jesus. I'm in my own little world here at my computer. Even if you don't like his music, keep in mind that there is only one guitar on stage, and its being played by him. That, my friends, is true guitar talent, and is why he garnered comparisons to Stevie Ray Vaughn early in his career (i.e. pre: Room for Squares).

And we all know how much of a sucker Anderson is for good guitarists.

Ahhh.

NeoCockney Rhyming Slang

2006-01-11T07:51:00.000-08:00

Phrilly and I have decided that the majority of the time, Cleavers is making shit up and passing it off as so-called "Cockney Rhyming Slang". I'm almost positive that most of these little terms are being pulled out of her ass on the fly. So, instead of buying into it, Phrilly and I are going to start making up Cockney Rhymes as well. The following would be the fruits of our labour from last night.

Term: Bein' Stephen
Translation: Being an ass

Roots: Bein' Stephen >> Stephen Glass >> Being an ass

Used in a sentence: After Sebastian had too much to drink, he began bein' Stephen.

Stay tuned for more Slangs from across the pond.

Everything's Coming up Milhouse..

2006-01-10T12:01:00.000-08:00

...or Anderson, for once. A fellow postdoc, to whom I have been an experimental bitch over the past couple of years, just walked into my office and informed me that I am entitled to backpay for the hours upon hours of psychophysical testing that I have done for him. Now, I'm not going to say exactly how much money I have fallen into, but let's just say that I am struggling with the decision of what to do with said pay: either I will

1. Put it towards paying down my line of credit, or
2. Buy this:

Three guesses to what I'm leaning towards: the first two don't count. Responsibility be damned.

And now I'm off to a Blue Jays autograph session, compliments of Phrilly. Too bad I really have no idea who any of them are.

For Kevin

2006-01-09T10:15:00.000-08:00

Just another example of people having too much time on their hands:

If you want to see a video of it, look here.

I wonder if Tessa shits in Faye's car.

And A Happy Christmas to All (or: What Eek Did on her Christmas Vacation)

2006-01-04T17:10:00.000-08:00

Goddamnit. I planned my post-vacation blog to follow a storyline with pictures. But I can't find my damned camera cable. So I can't upload my pictures. So you can't see all the things that I saw over the festive season. Like our really, really shitty Christmas Tree (that was cut down with love from my parents' backyard). Or Eek under a variety of different attention-seeking circumstances. Or Horn. God Bless 'im.

Actually, my vacation was incredibly relaxing. For the first time since graduate school, I leave behind a vacation that actually recharged my clock. I'm not more tired than I was before vacation. That's a good thing, as January usually requires a massive detox session. January is still going to be low-key, but it's because I WANT to and not because I NEED to. Anderson must be growing up.

Vacation started when Eek and I drove to Avonton on the Thursday morning. Eek was pissed. So pissed that she took a big poo in the back of my car. Yum. She's never done that before, and I hope to God that she never does it again. It stunk.

For the first 5 days here's what I did in Avonton:

Blue Fuck All.

I grew so lazy that getting a glass of milk required a 1/2 hour contemplation on whether or not getting up off the couch was worth it. You think I jest, but I don't. I don't even think I went outside for 2 days. Unbelievable. The lack of energy/activity ultimately culminated in my last 24 hours of Avonton-time with my head stuck in a toilet. Unfortunately, chez Anderson was inundated with some sort of food-poisoning or flu-bug, which saw 75% of us sick as dogs for 3 out of the 5 days. Fun fun.

I picked up Hessels in Stratford on the 28th, and spent a couple of days hanging around the Tdot, shopping, rasing a little hell, then lowering it again. Watched a retarded amount of Kenny vs Spenny (Sandra gave me the DVDs for Christmas, bought them for herself, and I gave Ryan the set for Christmas... there was a lot of opportunity to watch them over the holidays). We also went to see the Skyes, which is always a treat. Jerkus even ventured out of his room for a few hours. Wonders will never cease.

Ryan and I took off for Hamifax late on the 30th, to be greeted by sober Nikie just before midnight. Got to see Nikie's place which is ALSO great (why does everyone in Nova Scotia have such great places? Its like some sort of great-place province). Right close to downtown and lots of great pubs. We spent most of the night catching up over beers and wine while Ryan slept the night away. But Nikie had to get up and pick Hessels up the next morning, and so sleep was required at some point.

New Years was fun... Amy came via VIA (hee hee) and we prepared a good ol' fashioned home cooked meal before we went out. We went to a pub downtown, where we reintroduced Amy to the wonders of booze, stared in stunned horror at the number of young (and I mean young) females in the pub, and became acquainted with our new best friend, Horn. Horn was a great guy. We brought him home with us, and boy did he talk to a lot of people on the street. Almost all of the time, a greeting from Horn resulted in a raucous "Happy New Year!!!" from random folks on the street. Yes, we were lucky that Horn came into our lives, as I'm sure he is grateful to have found us. Again, I have pictures, which would be so much better. Damnit.

We also headed into Wolfville for a couple of days. Its as shitty as I remember (in case you AREN'T Hessels reading this, I'm being sarcastic). Hessels' office is successfully keeping with the armpit theme. What a hole. Unfortunately, Horn is now stuck living out the remainder of his days in Sandra's dive of an apartment. Poor li'l guy.

We also had a East Coast Mussel dinner. Mmmmm. Good shit.

Shopping in Hamifax yesterday, dinner at Nikie's local pub (which is about a 2.3 minute walk from her place and unbelievably cool), listened to Ryan's talk, and off to bed for an early morning drive to the airport. Got in this afternoon, which meant, of course, that I didn't make it into the lab. Needed to get my last few hours of being a lazy mofo in before I crank it up tomorrow.

So tomorrow I have to work again. Boy do I have a lot of shit to get done. And I have to go pick up my magical pooing cat from the folks this weekend. GFTs.

And a Hap-Hap-Happy New Year to everyone.

I Had To Glue My Ass Back on This Morning

2005-12-12T10:48:00.000-08:00

because I laughed it off last night. Kenny and Spenny raced rats. I texted Lynne, as I figured that noone would appreciate this debaucle more than rat-girl herself, but unfortunately she didn't get the message until this morning. I won't give away the ending, nor give away some of the tangential activities during the training week, but I will mention that there was a Capybara involved. This was especially funny to me, as it reminded me of one May 2-4, many moons ago, when we were sitting on Mac's cottage porch downtown Grand Bend, and sure as shit a Capybara went running by (only I was able to identify it thanks to being raised on National Geographic's Encyclopaedia of Mammals). Brilliant.

I have finally been bitten by Christmas spirit. As Friday was a light one (after a few congratulatory pints with Kevin and Carrie) that saw me in bed before 1:00, I was able to capitalize on Saturday morning Christmas shopping. Yes, Anderson has started her Christmas shopping a full 7 days before normal. I feel really on the ball. I also realized that if you can make it into the stores before noon, even 2 Saturdays before Christmas Eve, you will avoid the horrific onslaught of shoppers. So it wasn't even unpleasant. I'm not done yet, but there's a good dent in my list.

On Saturday evening, I went over to Michelle's for her first Annual British Christmas Abroad. She and Mary did a lovely job in preparing the turkey, roasting the potatoes, setting the table and organizing one all-in-all fantastic Christmas affair. And I finally realized what a good roasted potato is supposed to taste like. Unfortunately, this nagging cold finally got the better of me and I was not able to imbibe as much as I would have liked. However, I did go home with my first Christmas presents: a Martini Set and a little plastic deer that poos brown jellybeans.

And yesterday, after working for most of the day, my full Christmas Spirit kicked me in the ass and got me out to buy a teeny-tiny Christmas tree to put in my teeny-tiny apartment. So, now not only do I have some Christmas presents purchased, but they are also wrapped and under my 1.5 foot tree. So now, I'm ready for the great Homecoming of '05 to start on Saturday. It's only 5 days 'til Hessels.

Hockey for Southerners

2005-12-05T09:46:00.000-08:00

I'm happy to report that after a weekend chock full o' coding, Stink almost has a lab that runs. Although if I hear another piano rendition of "The Plough", I think there might be a little bit of throw up.

After finishing up for the day on Saturday, we headed over to Laura and Mark's to meet Brianna after her Christening. That is one cute, cute kid. Very happy. Laura's brother was also up from Atlanta to enjoy all the snow and hockey that Canada has to offer. Which led to a conversation about Southern hockey. Which led Tim to list a couple of pro hockey teams located in Georgia. Which led to the conclusion that, while Southerners may not know much about hockey, they 'shore do know how to name their teams.

My Favorites:

The Florida Everblades
The Louisiana Ice Gators
(hee hee, took me a minute to get that pun)

And the coup de gras:

The Macon Whoopee (hailing from Macon, Georgia)

Note the Whoopee's team logo (it took us a few minutes to figure out what was going on with the birds and the bees).

These are all pro teams to boot.

And now I'm pumped to go watch the Leafs play the Kings tomorrow evening at the ACC with Michelle. My first NHL game. Unbelievable. How is it that the Brit has seen more Leafs games live than I?

I'll Be Damned

2005-11-18T11:24:00.000-08:00

You ever wonder what happened to old friends from public and/or high school? Well, Eva just sent me a link to update me on one of my old friends Tracy Brookshaw. Yup, that's her.

I used to go over to her farm and slide down her stairwell on a mattress. And we used to ride the pigs. I guess she probably wrestles them now. In a hot pink bikini.

Good for a laugh after a decidedly somber week.

More Canadian Humour

2005-11-15T10:50:00.000-08:00

For those of you who think that Canadian humour is limited to the rural Great White North (ala Trailer Park Boys or Corner Gas, the only Canadian shows that seem to be attracting international attention right now), here's an example of a more urbanized form of Canadian humour.

Kenny vs Spenny Short

OK... you will notice that this short has obviously filmed in Los Angeles (as is evidenced by Spenny's romantic stroll along Venice Beach). But these guys are Canadian through and through, and this short is the predecessor of Canadian Showtime's Kenny vs Spenny, which includes such great contests as "Who Can Drink the Most Beer?" and "Who Can Live In a Van the Longest?". All filmed in Toronto.

And the first season is coming out on DVD in one short week. Booyeah.

Engerland and Home Again

2005-11-14T04:37:00.000-08:00

Let me start this post off with a word of warning: I am MASSIVELY sleep deprived. I am doubting my abilities to string more than 4 coherent words together. Of course, this lack of logical abilities at the moment is making it very difficult to get programming done at work. So to make use of my time, I am going to post some pictures of note from my trip that I promised that I would get up, and attempt to fill in the holes of my final few days in Engerland.

First, some pictures of activites that I have already summarized:

This is the greeting I got at Heathrow. (Kidding: this of course would be Guy Fawkes festivities. I thought that I wouldn't be so cruel as to put the picture of Simon in his tux up).

This is Matt, Simon and I at Guy Fawkes after most of the festivities have taken place.

And this is Vivian, Mark, and Matt at that random house in the country that we ended up staying at.

This is Becky, Ryan, Emily and Glen at the Red Bull, the pub across the way from their college. The Red Bull is the #1 alternative when the college bar is rented out for other activites (e.g., Sweaty Salsa night, which is quite truly quite sweaty I learned later in the week after having to walk through the Sweaty Salsa-ers)

This is where we had Formal Hall at Oxford. This picture was taken pre-dinner, as I was expressly told that whipping my camera out during dinner was not proper etiquette. So unfortunately I have no photographic evidence of actually sitting high table.

Here are Ryan and Glen in the Bear for a pre-dinner pint. Note the ties on the wall behind: the whole place is covered in tie clippings which the pub owners apparently like to collect off of their patrons.

This is a picture from the patio outside of Ryan's new residence room. A few months ago, Ryan and the Finn moved into a little cottage that is just behind the college itself, and is much nicer than the room that he had before. Also, it has a patio. And is about 4 times the size as his previous room. Brilliant.

And this is the cottage that said room is located in. Nikie, you will appreciate how much better this place is than his old room. You may want to consider another visit out there to take advantage of the accomodations alone.

Here we are giving positive reinforcement to James whilst he is carrying out his Portering duties. Explanation: at all the colleges in Cambridge (and Oxford), there is a Porter on duty. At the vast majority of colleges, these Porters are hired as full time staff, and effectively act as Guards for the College. Wolfson has the unique distinction of also having 2 student Porters on staff: those Porters would be James and Ryan. So they have universal access anywhere on the college. And control of the security cameras. And intimate knowledge of the going-ons behind the scenes. And power beyond their wildest dreams.

Here is Ryan giving a brief tutorial on the Trailer Park Boys to Nick and Simone (not shown). This will come in handy in the next couple of weeks for the "Best of Trailer Park Boys" showing that will be occuring in one of the common rooms. I wish I were there to see it. Hessels and Conrad: Ryan may well be joining us in Halifax for NYE so that he can make a pilgrammage to the Trailer Park where the Boys is filmed. Should be good times.

Here are Ryan, Becky and James after the Wolfson formal hall. A considerably different experience than the Christ Church formal. Much more wine and Port.

For my final evening in the UK, James and Becky had us over for a fantastic chicken dinner in their new flat. This is Becky and I after dinner. And after 3 Yorkshire puddings.

Mmmm. Yorkshire Puddings.

And here I am with Emily (who I finally got to meet this trip... even though we stayed at her place last time I was in Cambridge) at a Wolfson party on my last night there. Emily: you will note that I HAVE NOT put the ass picture up. But I do have it, and may be forced to use it as collatoral in the future. Hee hee.

And finally, a picture of Ryan, Simone and Emily during my last few hours at the college. Shortly after this, I went to bed. For 2 hours. I then picked up the 3:30am bus for Heathrow, took said bus, got on the plane, arrived in Toronto, was driven home by Vik, and found a (very hungover) Lynne on my couch. Out for the evening to Fion Maccool's, where an early evening turned into one that saw me in bed after 3am. 30+ hours after I got up. Yesterday was a bit of a blur, as I think I was only awake for about 8 hours (pretty much long enough for me to give Lynne a ride to the airport). Hence the fatigue and lack of creative thought whatsoever.

And as promised, this morning sees a new Anderson with a healthier lifestyle. We'll see how long this lasts.

Engerland: Vol. II

2005-11-09T02:27:00.000-08:00

Sitting here and sipping coffee as I'm looking over the courtyard from Ryan's new room is making me re-evaluate some of my lifeplans. I understand that viewing the country from the eyes of a tourist is considerably different from actually living here, but still...

As I was mentioning last time, we headed off to Oxford to meet up with Glen (who is from Moosejaw BTW), a fellow at Christ Church at Oxford. After a 3 hour bus ride (that wasn't nearly as bad as Ryan warned), we arrived in Oxford early afternoon. Brilliant city. Much like Cambridge, but larger. After a few items of business (Ryan had to drop an application off at Jesus.. Hee hee: the college is called Jesus), we headed over to what was touted by the Canuckers as being 'The Best Bar in the World', The Turf. This is apparently where Clinton didn't inhale. 'Twas a very cool pub indeed.

From there, we headed over to Glen's office at Christ Church. Sadly, I will never, ever have an office as cool as his (Sigh... THAT'S how the other academic half lives). After a tour around the college and surrounding grounds, we headed over to The Bear (which both Simon and Matt insisted I must go) and the White Horse (another tiny pub). Side note: if ANY of these pubs were in the Tdot, they would be my favorite bars in town. Hands Down.

And I'm listing every place that we went for the sole purpose of making Cleavers jealous.

Sitting high table was also ubercool. The hall is exactly like it looked in Harry Potter, and, to put things in perspective, I would have been seated right next to Dumbledore (come to think of it, I think I was in Snape's seat). Instead, I was seated beside Glen and another fellow, who I failed miserably at making small talk with. The conversation went something like this:

Me: So what are your research interests?
Him: I'm interested in the Social Relationships between religions in the 15th and 16th century.
Me: Huh.
[long pause]
... so, you like stuff?

Not so good with the small talk, turns out. So instead, I talked to Glen and Ryan most of the night. Although at one point the chap beside me had to turn to me again and tell Glen to hurry up and finish eating, as the entire hall must wait until everyone at high table is finished eating before the next course is brought out. Hee hee. At least it wasn't me.

Afterwards, we ended up in the Common Room with the other fellows for after dinner drinks. While we were sitting around talking, an article about Oxford in The Economist was pointed out that started off with the line: 'When people think of Oxford, they typically think of Fellows sitting around in robes while sipping port in a wood panelled room'. We read this while surrounded by Fellows in robes, and sipping port in a wood panelled room. It was funny. We booked it about an hour later, headed back to the Turf (2 visits in 8 hours, I think that's pretty good), and then back to Glen's apartment for sleep.

Back on the bus yesterday morning, got back to Cambridge early afternoon, at which point I came back to Ryan's room and crashed. For about 3 hours. Last night was a casual one, which involved:
1. Going to the Red Bull (the local pub across the street) and talking research with Ryan (I really do think we may be able to collaborate on something sometime soon)
2. My first (and definitely not last) exposure to MonkeyDust
3. Sitting with Becky (British) and Lauri (Finnish) and watching Trailer Park Boys (apparently everyone here loves the Trailer Park Boys: this is the impression that they have of small town Canada... which in reality isn't that far off the mark).
4. Street Meat.

And today, after going to lunch with Ryan, Becky and James, I'm going to explore Cambridge. I think I'll go to Marks and Spencer to get some underwear.

And I'm going to hunt down the PostDoc adverts in London that were forwarded to me. I've got some serious thinking to do.

Engerland: Vol. I

2005-11-07T01:39:00.000-08:00

While I didn't plan on blogging during my vacation, I realized yesterday that I should keep some record of my goings-on. I had this epiphany yesterday morning, when I woke up in a cottage somewhere in the South England countryside. And no idea how I got there.

I knew it was going to be a good 'un when I was greeted by Simon at the airport 9am Saturday morning in a tux. Still drunk. And we had to navigate the public transport to Sydenham, where they are apparently having a problem with large black cats at the moment. Good times. Simon has got a great place right on the train line, making it very convenient to get to. This will come in handy for me during subsequent trips, I'm sure. Met up with Matt (Simon's friend from Grad school: good people), and took off for Lewes. With no sleep to speak of. But there was burning to be done.

The Guy Fawkes celebrations truly are something to see. We ended up incredibly drunk with fire all around. And we met a couple who lived just ouside Lewes (hence the cottage in the country). Man, do I have pictures. What a fantastic random evening with drunk Englishmen (who also turned out to be multi-millionaires, ubercool).

Yesterday, we had to navigate our way back to London, meet with Lynfa and Simon and Simon's friends for lunch, eat said fabulous lunch, and I had to jump on the train to Cambridge. I don't think that I want to travel that hungover again. I really don't know what I'm doing when I have those amounts of vertigo. Vertigo was cured by more beer however when I arrived here in Cambridge. Nice to see everyone again, and I smell one hell of a week coming on.

Now, off to Oxford to go to formal hall in the Harry Potter dining room. We get to sit at High table, as Ryan's friend Glen in a Law Prof there. Gotta run to the bus, hence the quick ending. Will post more later. I'm sure tonight will provide excellent blog fodder.

It is Done.

2005-10-31T10:30:00.000-08:00

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

2005-10-25T13:13:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-18T08:38:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-17T10:29:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-14T08:29:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-13T08:14:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-10-08T08:21:00.000-07:00

...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

2005-10-07T10:07:00.000-07:00

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

2005-10-03T10:04:00.000-07:00

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.

Hark! Cocktails

2005-09-29T11:20:00.001-07:00

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...

2005-09-21T07:17:00.000-07:00

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

2005-09-17T10:45:00.000-07:00

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

2005-09-16T09:28:00.000-07:00

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!

2005-09-13T20:40:00.000-07:00

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

2005-09-13T09:50:00.000-07:00

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

2005-09-10T15:02:00.000-07:00

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

2005-09-05T19:27:00.000-07:00

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.

My Hate/Love Relationship with Purolator

2005-08-30T17:48:00.000-07:00

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

2005-08-28T14:46:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-08-22T22:28:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-08-18T12:14:00.000-07:00

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!

2005-08-14T17:16:00.000-07:00

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

2005-08-12T07:49:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-08-11T17:29:00.000-07:00

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

2005-08-09T08:05:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-08-03T19:44:00.000-07:00

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

2005-08-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

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!