Christmas wrap-up

Well my prediction of being able to post a blog on Monday seems to have fallen a bit short. I had started this one then, but I never did get around to finishing it. I was interrupted by a trip to a pet store to look at a ball python, which somehow resulted in Deirdre and I returning from there with a pair of Betas...and yet P. (Deirdre's brother) didn't get his python...I'm still not sure how that happened? But what the hell, they are cute, the python was as well, but we found mites on it, so it's getting treated before it will be taken home.

As I said in my earlier posts, this was going to be the first Christmas that I was spending away from family. Admittedly I'm not the only one to be away from home for the holidays, and unlike some of my friends, at least I am able to spend it in a country where they speak the same language...well unless I go far enough south...I still have no idea what that guy said to me in the hotel in New Orleans (and I speak English and French)!

I was also fortunate enough to spend the time with my girlfriend (oh her good news is finally posted on her blog) and her family. And just to remind you, she is the second eldest of 12 kids. Now I thought I was used to big family Christmases, after all my father's side of the family gets together every year for Christmas and we are about 16 or so those nights. But it just doesn't compare to being in a room with 12 siblings. The way that they interact is really quite different from how my brother and I do. I guess it's due to the ability to form alliances, rather than fair 1-on-1 fights. But beyond that there was a really fun playfulness among everyone, even the father, who can seem a bit reserved and almost seemingly strict, yet will be more than willing to throw a ball of wrapping paper at any of the kids. One of the most surprising things was how often gifts were simply thrown across the room to their final destination. I don't mean a light toss from one end of the couch to the other, I mean an over-hand lob over part of the tree, a couple of the smaller kids and right into the hands of the target sitting in a chair. More stunning still, not a single one was dropped. These kids have some of the best catching skills I have ever seen...though that may come from the fact that I have yet to spend any amount of time over there and not see a couple of them throwing things at each other. So I guess the good catching skills are more of a survival trait in that family. Either way, it was great fun to be there.

The morning however started with Deirdre and I digging into our stockings and exchanging presents. So did I get her diamonds? Of course not, though I love her I think that giving that after 3 months of dating would be a bit premature...and not to mention far too expensive. What I did give her however was a pair of earrings from the Weisman museum which is on campus. Along with a lotus shaped candle/incense holder from Vietnam (through Ten Thousand Villages). And tonight we will be going to see Le Petit Prince at the Jeune Lune Theater.

Deirdre's wonderful gifts to me included the latest Al Franken book a couple of sudoku books. I don't know if this is a new craze or not, but Deirdre just recently introduced me to it. These puzzles are fun and ridiculously addicting, so now I have a about 400 or so to do, I figure that should last me a month, maybe two at most. She had also remembered that I had mentioned that though I enjoy art I have little to no knowledge of the different styles and what distinguishes them. So I now have a nice little book that will walk me through all the various artistic styles. And of course since I'm a science geek she was kind enough to get me "The Third Chimpanzee" a book on the evolution of man. But probably the coolest gift is the membership to the Science Museum of Minnesota. It's such a cool gift and something I never would have thought of, but something I will certainly use. Of course she was smart enough to make it a dual membership, so I can drag her along.

So I think I was wrong earlier, the best gift wasn't the Science Museum membership, the best gift was that I was able to spend Christmas with Deirdre. She is so wonderful and so much fun to be with, I don't think I would have wanted to spend this Christmas any other way.

Happy holidays

So it looks like the end of the week is finally here. Yeah, I know it's only Thursday, but I'm not coming in Friday. Let's look at it this way: my boss has been in Hawaii for a week now and won't be back until the 3rd, the university support staff doesn't have to come in Friday, and of the nine other members of my research group I have only seen one in today...plus it's December 22nd and nobody cares if I'm at work on the 23rd or not!

As I mentioned in the last entry I'll be spending Christmas here in Minneapolis. It is looking as though this will be a very fun change, after all Deirdre got some great news today (ok, it may not be up yet, I don't know when she will get around to posting on her blog, so check back if there isn't any big news).

I don't really have all that much to say at the moment, so I will just mention that I may not be posting again until sometime after Christmas. I'm pretty sure I'm going to want to share what I got for Christmas, as well as what I got Deirdre, so that may be posted sometime on Monday, until then don't expect much from me.

So, in the words of Krusty the Klown:

[...]have a merry Christmas, happy Chanuka, kwazy Kwanzaa, a tip-top Tet, and a solemn, dignified Ramadan.

Specifically to all my friends, I wish you all the best this holiday season. Thanks for reading the blog, the fact that I know that a lot of you are out there checking it out makes me still feel as though I am in touch with you. I miss you all and wish I could see you over the holidays, but unless you are in the Montreal area that won't happen, but you will all be in my thoughts over the holidays.

Christmas shopping

So, have you finished your Christmas shopping yet? I ask because unlike most of you, I'm far from done, but I still have plenty of time, and for some reason feel like rubbing that in your face, how nice of me. The reason for the extra time is that I will be spending Christmas here in Minnesota, with Deirdre and her family. I won't get back to the Montreal area until the 29th to do a "Christmas" party with the extended family on New Year's up at Mont Tremblant, hopefully they don't strike again while I'm there.

But since I haven't really had the time I have not done any Christmas shopping for the family, I'm going to leave that for after Christmas. There are sales here as well after Christmas, but I'm not sure how they compare to the Boxing Day sales in Canada. So the only gifts I have really gone out to get so far have been for Deirdre. And save a few stocking stuffer items, I'm done with shopping until after Christmas. And maybe it's just me, but I think it's incredibly cool that Deirdre got me my own stocking for Christmas, is she a great girlfriend or what?

Of course since I have a girlfriend at Christmas I have to get her something special. I mean a foot massager is nice and all, but you'd have to be a hell of a dickwad to get your girlfriend one of those for Christmas or any other occasion really. So what do you get the special woman in your life?

Well in this country it would seem that the only thing that should be bought at Christmas are diamonds. Seriously, I cannot listen to any block of radio ads without being told that diamonds are the gift to give. Be it diamond earrings to "tell her that I'm kind of serious about thinking about getting serious with her"...I shit you not, that is the line used in one ad. Who is this ad meant to appeal to? The asshole with lots of money but afraid of commitment? Of course there is also the popular three stone pendant "representing your past, present and future together". Honestly, when did jewelry become the new Hallmark card? Another good one is the staged conversation between a woman who wants to pick her engagement ring, but make it seem like the fiancee chose himself. The store owner's advice is to conveniently have a laptop at hand with dessert so you can browse the designs on the web page, "he'll enjoy it"...like hell he will, talk about feeling backed into a corner. Anyway, if he doesn't know you well enough to know what kind of ring you'd like, there's a problem there.

The other thing that struck me as I wrote this blog is that I don't recall hearing a single ad for what to get "him" for Christmas. So what does this mean, that women here don't have money or that women are smarter than men (ok, it's probably the latter). But it is particularly odd that there is no generic gift to get a man, yet there is the "perfect" gift to give a woman.

Oh well, you will have to wait in suspense to find out if I caved and got diamonds for Deirdre, or did something original. But if you think that I went with diamonds, why don't you start holding your breath now, it'll only be five days before you know, clearly your brain cells don't need the oxygen.

Sleep

So I'm going to turn this entry into a bit of an informal survey on sleep habits. Now I don't really care what you sleep on, what you wear to bed or who you are sleeping with...though those could all make for good blog topics. No I'm curious to know if I'm the only one who seems to think that, in general, men sleep less than women.

I will admit that I am one of those people who, for the most part, doesn't sleep much. I have, in the past, been known to sleep for as little as 3-4 hours the night before a bike race that would last equally long. I've pushed the boundaries of sleep deprivation to the point that I know that I will start to have auditory hallucinations if I stay awake too long. I once got to a state of such exhaustion that my mind's inner dialog was actually in French. So yeah, I don't get the suggest 8 to 9 hours of sleep a night. But does anyone?

See, from talking to friends I have noticed that more often than not women will comment on sleeping 10+ hours if given the chance. I have never heard a guy say this. Unless I have absolutely nothing else to do, I'm likely to get out of bed after about 8 hours of sleep, max. Now this of course can easily be altered if I have my girlfriend with me, then I have no problems cuddling up to her and going back to sleep. Though after about 10 hours I'll pull out a book and the iPod because my body just can't function if I sleep that much.

But am I right to assume that given a day of complete freedom would a woman sleep more hours than a man? I figure I have a pretty good readership on here from both genders so let me know what you think (otherwise this will be the only new thing to read until I find something to complain about...hum I have been meaning to bitch about Christmas advertising...)

Public Transit

Let me just start off by saying that I think public transit is a good idea, when it works. This on the other hand is a short tale of how the failures of public transit can lead a very peaceful person such as myself to want to punch bus drivers.

So it all started with my plan to go out looking for a Christmas gift for Deirdre. I wanted to check out some places over in St. Paul so I figured I would grab an express bus from the university and be there in no time. Well, that was the plan anyway. I honestly don't know where the plan went to shit. I mean, sure it was snowing, but there was so little snow I could still see the painted lines on the road, so I really doubt that was the cause for the following failures.

So since I was taking a new bus route I had checked things on-line and arrived at the bus stop with about 5 minutes to spare before the bus arrived, this was roughly 4:50 pm. Well, after standing out in the cold for about 20 minutes I was stating to wonder what was up with this bus. I mean there had been 7 buses go by in this time: 3 campus shuttles, 1 bus but it was the wrong line, and 3 buses that were not in service. So needless to say I was starting to question if I was even at the right bus stop.

Nope, I was at the right place, the little shelter had my bus listed and it's arrival times, 4:56 (well, it sure as hell wasn't here yet) and the next one was at 5:21. Well, by this time it was about 5:15, so what the hell, I may as well wait for that bus, after all, it couldn't be late too, could it?

5:25, where the hell is that damn bus? I mean I've been out here for 35 minutes, and my feet are starting to freeze. Yeah, maybe I should be wearing boots, but the whole point with schedules is that I don't have to wait outside for half an hour, this is a modern society; we have the technology to fly a missile through a door on the other side of the world, you think we could get a bus to arrive within 5 minutes of a scheduled time. Well apparently not, and knowing how long it's going to take to get back to my place after I look for the gift (I was just going to look, I didn't have a specific gift in mind) I figure it's time to cut my losses and head home.

Now just as I get to the bottom of the stairs on the other side of the pedestrian bridge I see a bus pull up where I had been waiting; sure enough, it's the bus I had wanted. So do I run back over the slushy/icy bridge, screw it, I'll try tomorrow, I want to get home and get warm.

I know that the bus I take to get home can run a bit infrequently, so I decided to check the schedule to be sure I don't have a long wait. After all, I'm starting to feel my toes go numb and if I can slip back inside to warm up I might as well. But there shouldn't be a need, it's 5:28 and my next bus rolls through at 5:30...in theory. Well, by 5:40 I was doing the math, yup, I could have walked home by now (had I not waited for any buses), and my toes wouldn't be so damn numb because they would have received more blood flow. But ok, maybe the 5:30 bus was beamed up by aliens, there's a bus at 5:46, surely it would have survived the hazardous 0.5 (0.2 inches) cm dusting of snow on the roads. Yeah, well if I ever believe that again sign me up as a Republican, because by 5:55 I was starting to get cold (this means a lot, I don't get cold easily); yet somehow I was also in a seething rage, funny how that doesn't warm you up as much as one would think.

I realize though that I'm leaving out the best part. While I'm waiting I get the pleasure of seeing a campus shuttle bus every 5 minutes, I don't even need a watch to keep track of time. Then right around the point when I had been standing out there for over an hour, the biggest insult yet. Three buses pull up in front of me, a #50, a #16, and another fuck #50...you've got to be shitting me? This is just cruel!

Well you know what they say, third tries a charm. Sure enough at 6:01, the time scheduled for my THIRD bus, the #2 finally shows up. So it only took me 1 hour and 10 minutes to catch a bus! And you wonder why so many people own cars here. Hell, I'd like shitty traffic, at least the car would warm up, otherwise I would be able to drive home in all of 5 minutes!

Nicknames

Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I've recently realized that in my lifetime, I've had quite a few nicknames. It's kind of interesting really, because with the return home for the holidays it will be the one time in the year where someone will actually call me Christopher, and to be honest, it's kind of strange.

You see the name I use on here is in fact most of my real name, I have left out my surname, but "Christopher Robin" is in fact my proper first and middle name. But for the majority of my life I have gone by the name "Chris". I mean why not, it's the natural shortening of my name, it's not particularly dorky, and has nowhere near the cry for attention level that "Topher" has, the new in way to shorten "Christopher".

I think my first nickname had to come from my father, he's the only one to ever call me CR. The only other quasi-nickname along those lines would be from the ballroom dance group in Edmonton. You see there were far too many people going by Chris within that circle, so to them I have become known as "Christopher Robin". And yes, it's cute now...high school, not so cute...there's a reason I kept that name to myself until I was in university.

The nicknames I had in high school were "String Bean", given to me by a shorter bulkier friend. And "Smart Guy", with it's lovely derogatory connotation from the meatheads at the back of the bus...and no, I will never refer to high school as the best years of my life, I mean really, even if I wasn't picked on, if you peak before you're 18 you may as well kill yourself by 20.

In my undergrad I didn't pick-up many nicknames, though I did pick up a reputation for being quite the drunk. So maybe there were some nicknames I wasn't aware of, to be honest, I don't really want to know. The one I do recall though was from a friend in CEGEP, he called me "Big C" for a while, unfortunately I was far too lame/clueless to give him the very obvious "Little G" nickname, so that died off pretty quickly.

Grad school however seems to be where my nicknames began to blossom. Doing a rough count now I think I averaged on a year, and I'm leaving out at least one that never really caught on. One of the first one's was courtesy of Aaron, he nicknamed both Colin and I "The Glimmer Twins" after a night out with us, which included a watermelon, a frat house and a flying tackle of a pick-up truck...it was a fun night. But of course "Glimmer Twin" just doesn't cut it as a nickname, so Bryan was kind enough to designate us as "Alpha" and "Beta". I got "Alpha" for coincidentally wearing a shirt that matched the bike I bought the day it came in.

I think it's been through biking that I have acquired the most nicknames. In Edmonton the guys at Redbike started calling me "Il Presidente" once I was in charge of the bike club. Around the same time I was also given the nickname "Ladies Man" by some of my fellow club members. And yes, I did date a bit that summer, but you must also keep in mind that most of the club members were married, engaged, or in long-term relationships, so anyone with an active dating life could have picked up that title. And though I have only been with the club here in Minneapolis I already have a number of nicknames (I'm just glad I didn't fill out that part of the new member survey, otherwise there would be way too many to deal with). So far I have been designated "CC" which, in most cases, stands for "Canadian Chris", but can also be "Cyclocross Chris", though the latter is less frequent. However cyclocross has brought out a couple of other nicknames for me as well. The rather odd one of "Bruiser" is beginning to take hold. This was due to the bruises suffered by a club member who attended a cyclocross clinic I held. And no, I didn't hit her for not doing things right. The other nickname is "Gazelle", (do I in any way look like a Gazelle? well other than being skinny) and I have recently learned, this has also been used to describe me in softball. Apparently, my running style is either very graceful, or it looks like I'm running for dear life with a cheetah on my ass?

Oh, and last but not least, my research group has given me a couple of informal nicknames already. I have been referred to on several occasions as "The Canadian" even though our research supervisor is Canadian as well. And as "Post doc" which at least is accurate, though rather generic, as it was also used for the last post doc, so it doesn't really give me that same warm and fuzzy feeling as "Ladies Man" (with that sleazy tone of voice) would give me.

Recognition

Out of curiosity, how many of you have gone to a party, been certain that you know the majority of people there, people you'd spent hours with, talking to them, listening to them, working together for a common goal, only to find that when you walk in the door you don't recognize a single person there?

This happened to me last night. Sadly it's not the first time. For years I have been having this same problem. I've gone places expecting to see people I know, yet for the life of me I cannot identify them there. It's highly disconcerting...it's also because I'm a cyclist, and these are fellow cyclists; we all have the same problem.

You see, even though we spend hours on end riding with each other, carrying on personal and casual conversations the whole time; ok, I'm not really talkative when I go to the front of the pack and pull at 45 km/h (28 mph), but unless you count the occasional curse between deep breaths, neither is the rest of the pack. But one of the universal truths about cyclists is that we really only recognize each other when we are on the bike (after seeing the person in street clothes a few times this changes, but that can be a rare event to begin with).

See first of all, when we are riding we usually ride two-up (two lines of cyclists, so each person has a partner to chat with). But since we are drafting the person in front of us, we rarely take more than a subtle glance at the person beside us from time to time, after all, you need to watch what is going on in front, otherwise things get really dangerous. Then should you happen to take a glance at the person, or chat with them face to face at a stop light, they are 90% of the time wearing a helmet and sunglasses, big sunglasses with dark or really colourful tints, at times we almost look more like insects than people. So you really never do get a good view of their face.

Now the helmet poses an interesting challenge as well. If the person has short enough hair, you're never quite sure what colour it is, or even how much of it there is (if any). I've been shocked a few times to find that guys I thought had dark hair were blond and vice versa. And of course the clothing doesn't help. Sure you have a great view of the ass on the guy in front of you, in some cases you may see WAY too much of it (caution, this photo is kind of revealing and kind of gross, now I'm sure you're going to look, and no there isn't much of a scar), but that really says nothing about how they look in street clothes. After all, for most people, their regular clothes are nowhere nearly as tight as what they wear on the bike, unless they model latex garments professionally...but let's not go there shall we. But it's really funny that if we were all dressed in our identical team kits I would be able to identify people more easily than if they are in regular clothes...how messed up is that!

Another funny aspect is how tall people are. Sure you can get a sense of their height based on how big their bike is, or the fact that you can't see around them, or that you can over them when they are directly in front of you (I'm more likely to be able to do the latter). But even then only when you stand next to someone in regular shoes do you really realize just how much shorter they might be; trust me, I'm well aware of those that are taller than me, I love their drafts, I still miss the guy from Calgary who was 6'6", it was like riding behind a mini-van, only without the windows or exhaust.

The final and often most crucial element which is missing when you meet a fellow cyclist not on the bike, is the bike. It's sad how much we identify each other by our bikes, even in races I have often found myself paying attention to the details of the bike in front of me more than I have focused on the people around me. I recall one instance where I was absolutely confused during one of my first rides with ERTC. I had noticed a guy in the pack riding a green Cannondale, a while later on a different road he was gone, but another guy (who looked an awful lot the same) was riding a brown Cannondale, even weirder still was that further into the ride this guy had vanished, only to be replaced by another identical guy, but on a purple Cannondale. It actually took me a couple of rides to figure out what was happening. It turns out that this was a multi-layer paint job on the bike, and depending on the angle of viewing and of light, it would change colours: from brown, to green, to purple...It was the same guy, but because the bike was different I was completely confused. Kind of like a 6 year-old when he sees Dad without his moustache for the first time...yes I am aware that I compared my intellect to that of a 6 year-old, at least I'm an honest 6 year-old.

Popularity contest

Yeah, so maybe I'm actually only competing with myself, but it's a competition just the same. You might of course be asking: how does one keep score? Well the easiest way is the site meter. It's kind of fun, it lets me see where all my visitors are coming from, and how they got here. Most already have the link bookmarked, others have come across it by hitting the 'next blog' button (don't hit it, trust me, there is only crap on the other blogs, this is as good as it gets). The other interesting thing to see are those that find me through running searches. Some of these searches make sense, others not so much. Below are the list of searches used by the last 100 people to visit my blog:

• "cmac" blog
• orwell critisim 1984
• christmas music carol of the bells

I was hoping that there would be some more to add to the list, I have seen a couple of really strange ones in the past. But since I've been getting so many hits the history of the last 100 is about 2-3 days worth of visits...so yay me, I'm popular. I'm really quite glad that this little expriment has turned out so well. Most know that this was done so that I could keep in touch with friends back in Edmonton, to let them know what was going on. Well, since then I've picked up a few more readers and I'm glad to have them contributing through the comments on the blog.

But if I keep posting such self-centered pointless entries I figure I'm going have yet another month of decline in my readership. So hopefully I can make up for it by giving you a link to a much more well written blog, so swing by Deirdre's blog, if you were willing to read this crap you deserve to read something funny as a reward.

Trust

Trust, it's a really simple word, but it holds a lot more meaning and carries much more weight than I think most of us realize. It's a particularly interesting aspect of social interactions and relationships. In some cases it's freely given: to complete strangers, simply based on what they wear, where they are. In other instances the same people without those factors, in different situations may be seen as untrustworthy.

In relationships trust is a tricky thing. It is a cornerstone of a healthy relationship, but where does the trust come from? It is obviously within the capabilities of each party to give their trust to another, that much is clear. But where does the belief that the trust will not be misused come from; that feeling that you get that you know that you are free of the terrible consequence that you might be wrong? I have come to realize of late that trust can appear be confidently given to another in two basic situations. Either you know that the other has been in a situation where the trust could have been abused, yet it was not. Or that you have the self confidence and strength to independently place your trust in the other.

In the first case it is rather simple to know that the other is trustworthy. It comes down to a point, a test if you will, where the other's actions can be determined to be a pass or fail, black or white, trustworthy or not. But is this truly a measure of trust, or is it confidence that under those conditions trust can be maintained. What if the variables were changed ever so slightly?

The second case, to me, seems to be a much more firm level of trust. It becomes an unconditional level of trust. For to reach that point it is as though you can see the trust you have for the other reflected back at you. It does not come from any quantifiable measure, it is more a feeling, a belief, I suppose much like the way the religious believe, almost blindly. It could almost be said to be seen in the words and actions on everything that the other does, yet still is invisible to others.

Now I'm a scientist, I like the quantifiable. I deal with measurable quantities and reproducibility. Blind faith does not come easy to me, I prefer to have results, unknowns to be frank scare me at times. So it is rather interesting to recognize that I once again have blind faith in someone. Of course I'm talking about Deirdre. I wish I could say that I had such blind faith immediately, or without the more tangible forms of trust, but I can't. I did need a couple of instances of that to pass, I'm still a scientist after all. But I recently feel as though I have turned a corner. I can see how my trust in her is not misplaced and I can see all the trust she has placed in me. And it's a wonderful thing to feel; it's as though you can fall asleep next to that person and that all is well and you are well protected and cared for.

More Christmas Music

Just in case you haven't had enough bashing of Christmas music here's another perspective on the whole situation. It seems my girlfriend's family has a bit of a tradition going with Christmas music. Now not only is it plentiful, but it's all by the same artist! Anyway, I'll let her tell you about it...I now wonder if I want to spend Christmas with her and her family?

Christmas music

Sweet merciful crap, someone put me out of my misery now! Seriously, just ram a pen in my ears and rupture my ear-drums, I can't stand to hear it one more time.

No more jingling bells, elitist prancing reindeer, obese men with midget fetishes, pedophiles looking for infants, frostbite mornings, acid trip induced talking snow men, dead trees, harassing carolers or that f*cking little drummer boy...pa-rum-pa pum pum...if he keeps it up that will be the sound coming from the automatic rifle in my hands.

Now before you get me wrong, I'm not a scrooge or a grinch of any kind. It's just that Christmas carols are, as I eluded to in a prior post, the bane of my existence. Now I know that they are prevalent everywhere around Christmas, I can live with that. But does there have to be a 24 hour a day Christmas carol radio station? Ok, maybe there is a market for it, but do I have to listen to it in my lab? Who wants to be listening to the same songs for 25 straight days? I guarantee that's one of the tactics being used on the prisoners in Guantanamo Bay; but to be humane they are only subjecting them to Christina Aguilera, and I bet it wasn't her Christmas music either.

It's a damn good thing that I have access to an ipod so that I can block out the harmful effects of the sick mix of old time crooners followed by some random boy-band doing the same song I heard ten minutes ago, only now it has some failed hip hop beat in the background, and I though the First Noel couldn't get any worse!

Now I know some people enjoy the holiday season and the music that goes with it, but honestly, how many times can you hear about chestnuts roasting by an open fire? Seriously, is there anyone who can find and read this blog who has actually had a roasted chestnut, yet alone roasted one by an open fire? I suspect not, so how does that even relate to your holiday experience?

I'll admit that there are a few Christmas songs that I enjoy, Bob and Doug McKenzie's classic "12 Days of Christmas" is one of them. Then there is the Cheech and Chong "Santa Clause and his Old Lady". And since I am open to other points of view I have always enjoyed Adam Sandler's "Chanukah Song". So I will try to find and listen to those from time to time, but not 24 hours a day for 25 days.

Let's turn this thing around

You know, my last post about my Christmas list kind of has me thinking. Yes, I too think that the blog has taken a very bad turn towards the craptacular recently, hence the attempt to hide the shame of that last post. But also, I've been thinking about all the little 'gifts' that I've been given this year. And no I'm not talking about those moral/philosophical gifts of enlightenment and that kind of BS, I'm not that pretentious, jeez, you would think you'd know me by now.

No I'm talking about the material things that were just handed to me. Like the car that I had for about 5 months, that was one hell of a gift. Not only that, when I was done with it, as a thanks, I was given a kitchen set (a new table and 4 chairs), a bookshelf, and some large unidentified species of plant; seriously, it looks like someone crossed a fern, a palm and a troll and stuck it in a pot, but it doesn't need much water, so I like the freaky little thing.

Then there are some of the less than ideal pieces of furniture that I rescued... ok I picked them up near the dumpster, shit I'm a post doc, I can't afford for all my furniture to be new. In addition to those items there is the laptop that I'm using, a 'gift' from the lab, not like they are missing it, there were two of them just sitting there; I took the best one of course, once again a form of the post doc argument comes into play, I feel I'm entitled to it. And the only reason I can post this now is because one of my neighbours is kind enough not to have a secure wireless network, bless their giving soul...do they prosecute for illegal music downloads in this country?

There is even the box to the iPod my fabulous girlfriend has loaned me, for several weeks now. And a real gift from her, a lovely stone candle holder from Vietnam, once again, my girlfriend is fabulous.

So screw Christmas, I clearly don't need gifts all on one day, it's more fun to spread them out over the year. And it's particularly funny to see just how much of my life is made more comfortable by those little gifts. Thanks.

Christmas wish list

Well, it's that time of year again. The Christmas carols are playing everywhere like thousands of fingernails on chalkboards. My neighbour across the hall has changed the decorations on his door for the third straight month. It started with Halloween witch heads, then November was some kind of Thanksgiving wreath (dead twigs and vines) and now it's a red plaid wreath with a Santa head. If there is a naked baby in New Year wreath up there for January, I swear I'll move.

One of the nice things about the US holidays is that with Thanksgiving between Halloween and Christmas I didn't get bombarded with the November 1st store conversion to Christmas mode. But it's here now, no matter what I do I have to face that fact. This was driven home last weekend when my mother made her traditional call, asking me what I want for Christmas. So here's a first draft of what I would like to find under the tree this year. If you have anything you think I should add please let me know.

• Of course as a cyclist I would be remiss in not wanting to add to my collection of two wheeled vehicles. I only have 3 bikes at the moment, and if I want to make a difference in my racing next year I think that an upgrade is in order. Do you think $5,400 for a bike that I might ride for 200 km a year is too much...nah, I didn't think so; doesn't it just look fast!

There are of course many other bikes and accessories that I would love to get, but I don't want to seem greedy.

• Of course with the new bike there just wouldn't be any room for all 4 of them in the closet. After all I couldn't risk bumping them together and scratching the paint. So the obvious solution is for someone to get me a new place. I'd suggest a condo in the warehouse district. The photo below is an adequate representation of what I would need, but you will also be giving me the gift of a new paint job, because white walls just won't do.
• Now since I will be moving to a new part of town, and I'm just too lazy to figure out a new bus schedule, someone is going to have to get me a car for Christmas. And don't worry, I'm not going to ask for anything insane like a Hummer, I still have a social conscience, I want something fuel-efficient, but also stylish. So maybe and Audi would fit properly...though I will probably still need to get a lift to bike races, after all, you can't put a roof rack on an Audi, that would be a disgrace.
• And of course at this point my wardrobe is getting quite dated, seriously, pink shirts were so yesterday. I need to be in style to hang out with all the trendy new people I will be meeting with my new car and condo. So I'm thinking a gift certificate for a complete wardrobe will be necessary, it doesn't have to be from anywhere to fancy, I can live with Banana Republic. Of course if someone wanted to get me a smaller gift, I could always use a tuxedo, because every guy looks good in a tux; for the record though, I look damn good in a tux.

So if you haven't figured it out by now, I have no real clue what I want for Christmas. I'm a bit too old to be writing to Santa in the hopes of getting everything I see in the toy catalogue. The reality is that I don't really need anything. I really don't get much joy from material things, books and music (can music be material?) are some of the few things that I really enjoy. Obviously I love bike stuff, but the reality is that I'm either too picky or too selective to make getting me bicycle gifts practical/affordable. Of course this will drive my parents nuts trying to figure out what to give me, what do you get for the son who lives in another country and whom you see once a year? My guess is probably about the same thing said son gets his parent's and brother who live in another country and who he sees once a year, something he hopes will be appreciated but is never really sure about it.

Blog Therapy

The original post has been removed as I have realized that though I am always willing to share my personal life the latest post went into the personal details of the life of someone I have identified by name on this blog. For that reason I realize I should not have published the post and have removed it from the blog. I'm sorry.

So what's up?

Seriously folks, what's going on in the work outside of Minneapolis? For the past couple of weeks I have not really received any personal e-mails. It's kind of sad to look at my inbox each morning and realize that all the messages are from automatic journal updates and the like. I know a bunch of you have blogs, and I do keep an eye on them, and a bunch of you have been rather lazy of late. So if you are wondering if I check your blog or not, I do, but usually I only swing by when I see an update.

So if you have some time this weekend write a blog entry or even better still, send me an e-mail. I miss you guys. And if you are someone I haven't met, feel free to write to me anyway, I'm quite friendly (unless you're: stupid, offensive, obnoxious, intolerant...ok, so just don't right if you are a hard-core Republican) but I would be curious to hear from some of the readers that I have never heard from. You can find my e-mail through my blogger profile.

Have a great weekend and keep an eye on the blog, I'll be posting my Christmas wish list shortly, it should be entertaining, I hope.

Stupid sinks

I don't know who got the contract to install the sinks at this university, but whoever did it certainly had a strange way about doing things. One oddity is the variety of faucets and faucet handles that can be found in a single washroom. I mean we have all see different styles, single and double faucets and faucet handles that are knobs, levers or push-button style; there are as many styles as there are tastes. I just had never encountered so many in the same wash room at the same time; one washroom in the chem building has 4 different combinations of faucets and handles. But what the hell, diversity is the spice of life.

However, with my sinks I may limit my diversity to the style of the faucet handle. See some of the sinks have faucets that don't actually let water pour out, for some it's designed more like a sprinkler...actually more like a high powered mister. Either way I don't like it.

Today in the nanofab building I came across a new nemesis in faucet and handle combinations. This was a push-button style faucet, I can live with that, it helps conserve water so that's a good thing. However this on was not very well made. It was kind of sticky, such that it became a binary switch, either the water was not flowing or the tap was wide open. Ok, so what's the problem with this? Well, let me preface this by saying that I have yet to come across a sink that isn't at the level of my crotch. I swear that when I get my own place I am going to ensure that all sinks are above crotch level. You see, when this tap was full open it didn't have the expected continuous flow of water. No it seemed to be more like the flow from a water cannon, directed to my cupped hand, directly at crotch level.

So yeah, it's kind of sad, but the whole idea of this post came to me while I was drying off the crotch of my pants in a washroom. Aren't you glad that you stopped in to read this today?