Impossible Questions and Murphy's Law

Well my traffic has continued to be much higher than normal. I'm really not sure why, but it seems that most visitors are linking into my post about googlebombing. Perhaps I'm on some techie website somewhere because a lot of my new visitors seem to be from Australia and the UK.

I also received this email which I thought was quite funny:

Hi

I saw your Web-Site on Blogger and I need help with a "Lexar" JumpDrive Stick; It was given to me and I want to know if I can keep all my stored data without no one been able to open my stick and see my data. Is there a password that I can use to keep my data secure? I hope I am not bothering you, I do not know much about computers or hardware. Hope to hear from you.

David

I can't answer your question since I can only guess that a Lexar JumpDrive stick is some kind of designer toothpick. How in the world would anyone think from reading my blog that I could answer a technical question? Thanks for visiting David, but any advice that I could give you in the computer tech department would be pure fabrication and would only screw things up.

After figuring out where to buy Civilizations 4 I spent most of my time trying to get the bastard to work on my computer. There is some technical snafu with the game and ATI video adapters, and of all the different brands of video adapters that one might have I, of course, have an ATI adapter.

The program crashed my screen and computer 6 times before I resigned to the fact that it wasn't an accident, and with that I began tinkering with my drivers and settings. I have managed to get things working alright but I think that I need to buy more RAM for my computer and to perhaps try a new video adapter. Isn't that always the way things go?

Two Jobs and Suburban Malaise

I had two jobs to do today. The first was to track down Civilizations 4 and therefore spend the rest of the day in front of a computer screen. The second job was to find a brown afro wig so that someone can go as Napoleon Dynamite for a Halloween party.

Sadly, the two tasks required me to drive out to the middle of nowhere suburbia. The land of SUVs, box stores, and industrial space mazes.

I managed to find the wig in the store I expected to find it. It was so nice not to have to search around for an entire afternoon to find it, but a part of me feels gross and nasty from my visit to suburban Toronto.

Toronto has become a highly suburban city as downtown home ownership is well beyond the grasp of many. I can't understand why anyone would prefer living in the suburbs to living downtown. Don't tell me that price is the issue since I expect most houses in the suburbs are more expensive than the building in which I live.

I suppose that size is the factor. A 3000 square foot home in Whitby is much cheaper than it's equivalent in downtown Toronto, but I have really come to an important understanding.

When I moved to Toronto I had all my stuff in boxes. It was all the stuff that I thought I would need and use. Since my life at that time was in such disarray and so unknown, I hesitated to unpack since I knew that I might have to move again (see blogs from July). In an effort to maintain order to my life, I unpacked what I knew I would need and put all the miscellaneous items in the closet.

I have lived here for four months now and those boxes are still exactly where I left them. They haven't been moved, opened or even thought about. All those "essential" items that I've hauled across the country are essentially just sitting there waiting to be made useful.

Forget "bird flu", the accumulation of "stuff" is a pandemic. Our society says, "buy more and you'll be happy" and we follow along and fill our homes with stuff we don't need. Though I am living modestly I am just as guilty here.

If you are considering a move from downtown because your 2000 square foot home "just isn't enough space" and you "can't afford" to live in downtown, consider looking through your filled to overflowing storage areas and your triple layered bookshelves and purge, baby, purge.

If you need any further proof as to the necessity of this, I simply invite you to visit a Walmart. Look around you and decide if you really want this to be your life. This is where the suburban person shops. This is what the suburban dweller accepts as "normal."

It might be a nice place to get a wig and a video game, but I sure wouldn't want to live there.

Discovery Thursday

I posted here about an increase in visitors to my blog which coincided with Selley's reference to my blog. That was a month ago and since then my traffic has waned dramatically (see above chart of the past month). For some, as yet, unknown reason, my traffic has increased again. Yesterday saw a surge and that has continued today. I am constantly fascinated by this blog thing and tracking visitors has become something of a ritual (read: obsession).

The past couple have days have seen me get frighteningly little accomplished.

On Tuesday, I discovered that my favourite video game franchise, Sid Meier's Civilizations, is set to release Civilizations 4. I spent yesterday, therefore, trying to track it down. This was no easy task since most places didn't have it on the shelves and there appears to be some discrepancy regarding the game's release date in Canada. After work today I again searched it out. It was, again, pointless, but I did find out that it has been delayed until tomorrow. At least that was some useful information after several hours and many dozens of litres of gasoline.

I subbed today and also on Tuesday and came to the realization that what makes private school students unique is that a primary part of their education is discovering new and interesting ways not only to cause trouble, but, fundamentally, to cause trouble and not get caught. Public school students, in my experience, screw around and don't care if they get caught, but my (albeit limited) experience with private school students is that they are equally (though I wonder if they are perhaps even more) willing to cause trouble, but spend the vast majority of their time avoiding detection and punishment.

On an unrelated note, something else that I have just discovered is that when you do a spell check within blogger it detects "blog" as a spelling error. I suppose I shouldn't nitpick since I have been blogging here since April and this is the first time that I've even noticed that I could spell check within blogger.

Hello, Please, Tell Mr. Royal This Is The Pagoda

There isn't much happening these days. It's been cold and rainy and generally nasty for the past week or so, and, I must admit, it's getting me down a little. I am looking forward to getting away again this weekend.

Tomorrow will see me in the classroom again. I'm subbing for the day in Senior English which should be fine. I'm also working on Thursday.

I spent the weekend taking inventory of all my PEZ dispensers and am in the process of photographing them so that I can list them on eBay. I have 971 dispensers all together and I'm hoping that I'll be able to get an average of $5-$10 US for them. Sadly, I can't sell them all at once, but will have to do it in small doses. Needless to say, my apartment has been a serious mess but I took some time today to get things organized again.

Apart from the few jobs that I've done, it's been a quiet week and weekend. My allergies are driving me mental and I'm anxious for the first frost to come and kill all those pesky plants that are making my head feel like a pinata.

I suppose that I could further document the mundane events of my life, but no one wants to hear about my shoe returns, my foray into electric razors, or the pantry-robbing meals I've managed to create without having gone to the grocery store in what must be more than three weeks.

Oh yeah, I watched the Royal Tenebaums this afternoon and I would like to state for the record that Kumar Pallana kicks ass.

Google Bombs and All Things Geeky

When I hear a story like this, I always wonder to myself how long it's been happening before I've heard about it. I always hesitate to blog about current events as I expect that some of you will read this and say: "That is so August 2005."

While it is, of course, funny that the White House's biography of George Bush comes up with the search terms "failure" and "miserable failure," I just can't believe how much has been written about it.

If you need any further proof that the world is run by nerds, just go to the Wikipedia entry for Google Bomb. Scroll down to read about the long history of googlebombing, and check out the "Accomplished Googlebombs". They're good for a laugh. I especially like the results for gastrointestinal dysentery and mouton insignifiant.

I Got It Right Here In My Brand New Raptor Bag

This evening saw a first for me: my first pro basketball game. I was lucky enough to get an invitation to the Raptor's preseason game versus the New Jersey Nets.

The seats were in the fifth row and ticket list price was $199. The seats kicked some serious ass, and are of the variety that only large companies can afford to own. That is how I got my ticket.

The crowd of a mere 13,000 seemed positively sedate during the first three and a half quarters of the game. Apart from a few ohhs during a slam dunk or an allyoop (sp?) there wasn't much more than the lull of conversation. There was, of course, the easy to explain laughter (mostly from me) during the Raptor Dance Pack interludes and everpresent whistling (certainly not from me) as the mop girl swiffered the key after free throws.

The Raptors trailed for most of the game and whenever they did manage a lead it was quickly beaten down by a scoreless streak. With less than 6 minutes in the fourth the Raptors trailed by 14, but managed to crawl back.

Down by three, Corey Williams stuffed a follow-up dunk to bring the team to within one, but a quick jump shot by Jacque Vaughn put the Raptors down by 3 with only 11 seconds left. At 5.7 remaining, Corey Williams missed a three-pointer and fouled Antoine Wright. Most people at this point streamed out, but Wright proceeded to miss both free throws giving the Raptors a second chance.

On the inbound, Charlie Villanueva went up for a last ditch three pointer and was fouled with 1.6 seconds. He sunk all three baskets and sent the game into overtime and the crowd into a frenzy.

The overtime, was not as exciting, but Williams and Villanueva free throws put the Raptors up by two and they held on for the win.

Now I'm no baller but this was an exciting finish and a fun game. The entertainment was there and despite the fact that I could never afford to buy seats myself (perhaps the strangest irony of pro basketball) I will definitely go again on someone else's tab.

And oh yeah, if anyone from the ACC is reading this I highly recommend adjusting the "last call" time. Can believe that they don't serve anything after the start of the fourth quarter? Don't they know that without alcohol people will realize that sports are dumb?

Past Blasting

In my concert review from last week, I mentioned that I drove from my parents' house where I had spent much of Thanksgiving weekend. I failed to mention that I brought their pick up truck with me.

I had a few jobs to do and so this week I rented a 40 foot ladder in order to install bird spikes to the ledges of my building, drove to Kitchener to pick up a piece of furniture, and drove to my parents' cottage in Bala to load up a palette of flagstone.

I headed to Montreal for the weekend and on Friday four of us packed into the Toyota Tacoma and headed to my parents' farm to drop off the flagstone and to switch into the luxury of my Corolla. I felt badly about hauling my friends for the detour especially since the journey from Montreal to Toronto took about 7 hours.

When we arrived, I quickly remembered how much I've missed driving in Montreal and I realized that my eight years living and driving in Montreal is directly responsible for all the speeding, traffic and parking tickets that I have earned in the time since I left. If you are not, at any given moment, breaking at least three laws people honk at you for being inept. I have long stated that I prefer Montreal drivers because at least they know what they're doing. They are horrendously aggressive, but they do know how to drive well. Sure they might not follow the rules of the road, but I'd rather be on the road with good bad-drivers than bad good-drivers.

After arriving in Montreal, the first job was to visit the SAQ and pick up some drinks. We proceeded to pour them down our throats the only thing that would have made it more efficient is if we had hooked it directly to our veins. After scarving down delivered Altos burger specials, we headed to a karaoke bar of all places. My renditions of Modest Mouse's "Float On" and Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" were weak at best, but still fun. We closed the place down and headed home.

For some reason, while everyone else slept off a hangover, I decided to wake up for Soccer Saturday. I watched a wretched game between Liverpool and Blackburn, and then headed out to Place Milton for breakfast.

The afternoon was a wash, and I settled in to watch the Leafs/Habs game. By the end of the game my early morning caught up to me and I was fading fast. By the end of the first period of the Flames/Oilers I was bagged. After I trip to the bathroom, I wandered past my bed and was seduced by its call. Ladies and gentlemen we have a new definition of lame.

The next morning saw my return to Cafeteria for breakfast. It was essentially the same but with higher prices and, oddly enough, better service. We then hit the casino. I won $25 playing the mechanical horses and then lost $20 playing roulette. The saddest part was that they've raised the minimum bet per spin to $5. That means that while I really like sitting for 20+ spins, I was only able to sit for four. I was happy to replenish my Casino de Montreal moist towelette supply though.

For dinner we went to Magnan for steak and then headed to the Spectrum for the Death Cab for Cutie concert (see review).

All in all a fun weekend, but one of those times when you realize that you're getting older. I wonder sometimes if there's any way to avoid it, but coming to terms with late 20s life is going to take much more reflection.

Concert Review of the Week: The Decemberists

I have been to a lot of concerts since my return to Toronto. After living in Saskatchewan for two years, I missed seeing live shows. Great bands (i.e. The Pixies, Caribou, Sloan, Modest Mouse, and Bonobo) did play in Saskatoon while I lived there but it's hard to be a live music fan and live outside the Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver touring triangle.

Once I hit Toronto I checked out the concert listings and went a little overboard snapping up tix for concerts of all the bands I had listened to for the past two years, but hadn't ever dreamed of seeing live. The Decemberists was one of those bands.

October 13th was a cold and rainy day in Toronto and on a Thursday evening like that, you can usually find me in the foetal position on the couch watching television. Nothing would have pleased me more than to have spent the evening doing nothing, but I hauled my lazy ass up and headed down to the Phoenix Concert Theatre.

I arrived at the show at 10:15 thereby missing the opener: Cass McCombs. The venue was quite full and I decided to forego drinks and settled in. I waited for 30 minutes or so and was bumped into, hit, knocked, and spilled upon by a few dozen people. Despite being surrounded by short girls I began to feel quite claustrophobic.

It may have been a combination of everything that was going on, or the fact that I would have rather been cuddled up in bed (a sure sign that I must be getting old), but I was very uncomfortable, and the stiffling heat was making my head spin. It was a very Meursault shooting the Arab, and as the band took the stage, I began to wonder what my next move would be.

After three songs it hit me. I realized that I have had The Decemberists in my iTunes playlist for over 18 months, but everytime one of their songs comes on I skip it. I hear the cheery catchy melodies, but am jarred by the vocals. I always wonder, "who is this?" and with my interest piqued, I invariably slide my mouse to my iTunes tab to find out.

"Oh, the Decemberists." Skip.

I must have heard every song they've written only halfway or three quarters of the way through. I suppose that this raises the question (note that it does NOT "beg the question") why I keep doing it. I guess that I feel some strange pressure that I should like this band, and that I should know their music and enjoy listening to it. As I type this now I've realized that it's just simple music snobbery. I've hung onto the Decemberists merely for the puzzled faces when asked "Who are going to see?"

So I admit it. I left the concert early and I don't regret it. I know that there will be a ton of people who will question my choice and tell me what a fool I was to miss this show, but when you're in a 39 degree concert venue sweating and it hits you that you've become the music hipster-doofus that you hate, something's gotta change. With that I got the hell out and my only job now will be to remove those songs from my playlist.

Concert Review of the Week: The New Pornographers

I spent the weekend at my parents' farm working like crazy, and as always, I got a slow start heading out. For some reason, there are always a ton of jobs to do at the last minute. This time it was moving an airconditioner, cleaning lighting tiles, carrying a desk upstairs, and loading a bookcase into a truck.

In my new resolution never to get another speeding, traffic, or parking ticket I drove the speed limit. You know, the journey is so much longer when you don't break the law. I always remembered the drive to my parents' house was about 3 hours, but yesterday it was closer to four.

The original concert, which had been scheduled at The Docks was thankfully changed to the Phoenix Concert Theatre, but the band and their fans had to clear out by 10:00 to give time for the "Temple Sunday". The 6:30 starting time was quite lame.

So with my late start I was rushing around to get to the Phoenix on time for the show. Naturally, I missed openers "The Immaculate Machine" and "Destroyer". I heard that they were very good, and I'm sorry I missed them.

Despite the early start, the band turned it up right away with "Twin Cinema" and "Use It" to open up the show. We bounced around to most of the new album along with the usual suspects from Mass Romantic and Electric Version.

There isn't too much else to say. The band was very tight and seemed to be having a lot of fun. Drummer, Kurt Dahle, embodied much of the spirit of the show not only pounding out the beats, spinning his sticks, and throwing them up into the air (he rarely caught them to the crowd's delight), but also uncorking lines like "All I had for dinner was two whiskys and some pringles. I'm not into hard living, either, but that's all there was backstage." and "If it's any consolation [Neko] I had some cocaine and a blowjob."

In the documenting of the encore (see Michael Penn review), The New Pornographers managed two. It was an exercise in "the game of rock" since we could see them just standing around backstage waiting "just long enough" before they retook the stage.

A good show, but certainly not a life-changer. It was a great Thanksgiving Sunday out and definitely the first one that I've spent without my family. Fortunately, I bookended it with turkey dinners on both Saturday and Monday.

I Look Pretty Tall But My Heels Are High

That's right. Every time I have a post about subsitute teaching I'm going to title it with a line for the Who's "Substitute".

I was my old English teacher yesterday and today. It was a good gig. Pay was decent, there's no marking, no report cards, no extra-curricular, no meetings. I go in for the day, follow someone else's plan (and all their work) and then split at 3:30. I don't have to worry about anyone and I get my 9-5 job (okay, 9:30-3:30 but who's counting). Hey, I also get a free lunch.

No problems whatsoever on either day. It's was nice to be in the classroom again, and after the initial butterflies, I realized how much I've missed it.

Sadly, I'm no one of those people who feast on the misfortune of others. Like the ambulance chasing lawyers, funeral directors, or the human refuse who give parking tickets. I wait for someone to get sick, or have a death in the family. That said, I'm heading back tomorrow to fill in for someone whose mother is on her death bed with Cancer. I can't feel happy about that, but it means that I'll be busy.

Certified? Hell, Yes ... I Mean No.

In the ongoing saga that is my attempt to teach in Ontario, I have been, once again, teased and taunted by fate.

I got a phone call on Monday from my friend Todd who teaches at a high school in Richmond Hill. He informed me that a Senior English position had opened up at his school. It would be a sick leave replacement for an indeterminate amount of time. The principal asked Todd if he knew of any good English teachers who were looking for work. After reading my tales of woe on this blog, he naturally thought of me!

I forwarded him my resume, which he plunked on his principal's desk. I guess he liked it because he checked out my OCT certifications only to discover that I am not officially certified to teach Senior English.

Well that came as quite a shock to me. Todd explained, in a way that only Todd could, that I need to be certified at the intermediate level in order to teach grades 7-10 and at the senior level in order to teach grades 11 and 12. Each certification requires a teachable subject, in my case English or history.

Well fine. The only problem is that I now need to enrol in an "Additional Basic Qualification" course. Aside from the huge pain of having to take a three month course, and not being able to teach high school until I get the piece of paper, it's also going to cost me $875.00 (see certification fees).

My present kick in the groin is this:

Deadlines for Application
Brock University: September 30
Lakehead University: September 12
Nipissing University: September 30
University of Toronto: September 9
University of Ottawa: September 16
Queen's University: September 25
University of Western Ontario: August 26
York University: August 26

So I missed the Fall online course deadline by as little as a week. I won't have any problem registering for the Winter session, but in that case the earliest that I will be able to teach is March. I suppose it's not the end of the world, but, man, what a burn. I wish that someone had told me. I really wish that I had spoken to Todd earlier in the summer he would have set me straight!

Name That House

In an all new feature, I present: Name That House.














It's very simple really. Tell me whose house this is.

I Look Pretty Young But I'm Just Back-Dated, Yeah

So I'm a substitute tomorrow. It will be as if I am travelling back in time to the days of being just out of teacher's college. I can feel myself stepping down the ladder.

I'm teaching what should be the easiest two days in subbing history. I went in last week and spoke to the teacher whose shoes I'll be filling for tomorrow and Thursday. There'll be a spare each day, two periods of test writing, a work class, and then I'll actually have to teach two classes. No problem, except for the sad fact that I have again been gripped by procrastination and can't focus on getting my lesson planned. I blame it on iTunes, the new Broken Social Scene album, and my new addiction to flavoured water.

My lesson is on the active and passive voice, and I shudder to think at how many times I've used the passive voice in these blog entries.

As a side-effect of my lack of desire to work, I have prepared the sure-to-be-tons-of-fun challenge found above. Is procrastination the new mother of invention?

Back To The Job Search Monday

After a great weekend I slept 12 hours last night and woke up ready and raring to get back into the job search.

By ready and raring, I mean that I filed an EI report and applied for a Communications Coordinator job. Actually, I did find a maternity leave position at a small school downtown. It's for a grade 3 teacher, but I hesitate to even apply. What with the stifling need for male elementary school teachers, my degree in elementary education, and my three years of teaching experience; I fear that I am vastly overqualified.

So I decided to go to the grocery store. There I found the largest collection of the unhappy that I have seen outside of Todd Solondz movie. Crying children pacified with strawberry "flavoured" Fruit Roll-Ups, walker pushing grandmothers opening cereal boxes, the heavily manicured and made-up women shouting orders down aisles to their once-party-going Cincinnati Reds cap wearing boyfriends.

There isn't a better advertisement for birth control than visiting a grocery store on a Monday morning.

Still, I managed to navigate the poorly stocked shelves and spend $32+ dollars on a lot of stuff that I didn't really need. I know that the whole charade was just thinly veiled procrastination.

Now I'm back at my computer procrastinating again. I'm still working up the courage to face Workopolis again, but the tires still spinning accident that is Monster is, I think, still a few days away.