Super Bon!

A move always disrupts your life in countless ways that won’t necessarily be apparent until months after the fact. When we packed up to move, I was only about halfway through sucking the souls of my CD collection onto the harddrive for iTunes management and iPod portability. Our collection was already a bit of mess when we packed, but we sort of knew where things were so it was okay. Since McGill actually pays for movers to unpack you, we had our CD collection unpacked and shelved for us, which was cool but meant further disarray. I should add that there are few things I hate more than filing and organizing. I prefer just to do stuff.

So today I had many and sundry tasks to do, include making slight edits to letters of recommendation and printing out countless copies for various recipients (each one gets a custom version. how nice of me). In honor of the less-than-thrilling-yet-utterly-necessary task, I walked over to the CD collection to pull out some fresh material. Stuff I hadn’t listened to on the computer or iPod for some time (might as well take advantage of the fact that it’s broken, eh?).

Among the CDs I pulled down was Metric Old World Underground, Where Are You Now? This was one of those CDs in the collection that I couldn’t quite place. Did someone loan it to me? Did I buy it at a store after listening to it and misfile it and never really listen to it? Did I buy it years ago and not like it? I put it in. Sounds vaguely familiar. Sounds really good. I listen more. Eventually, after a bunch of letters are ready to go, I go check them out on the web. Toronto band. 2003 album. No new releases. Mystery solved: they opened for Broken Social Scene in Pittsburgh last year. I missed most of the set but liked what I saw and picked up the CD. Given how complicated my life was right about then, I’m not surprised that I put it away and never gave it the time it deserved. Ah well, time to make up for past mistakes. This one will be in heavy rotation in the near future. . . .

I’m doomed. The cost to repair my iPod is MORE than the cost of a next-generation unit with 20gb storage. What a racket. When I told the tech on the phone that I was simply following their directions on the reinstall she said “maybe it was a bad download.” Buyer beware! As usual, Apple tech support is pretty awful (though not as bad as Dell, where the tech I called about a problem with an LCD monitor clearly had no idea of what it even looked like). I still have a grudge from 2003 when they told me that I could install OSX on an old beige G3 computer and there would be “no problem.” I said I was double checking because I didn’t want to put money into a new hard drive, spend the time fixing up the thing, etc., if I would wind up having to get a new computer anyway. I was assured that OSX was fully compatible with beige G3 computers. Except that once I set everything up, I discovered that OSX didn’t recognize the old serial printer port. When I called back, the tech (a different one) acted surprised that I actually wanted to use the computer to print.

Despite all my complaining, I am going to happily shell out for another unit unless I can find someone to repair the unit for cheaper (I already tried the local suspects). I just like the thing too much. Hell, I’ll probably upgrade now that I use it so much.

In Other News

–This week’s movie nite was Sideways which was surprisingly good. At least I was surprised. Without giving away anything, I’d simply say that the wallet chase scene was priceless, and very well filmed.

–I sent two piece of writing out today. Hooray.

–I’m off to Pittsburgh in the middle of next week for a dissertation defense.

So today the streak of cold looks like it’s breaking. That’s a good thing. Locals have grumbled at and/or made fun of my perverse enjoyment of extremely cold temperatures, but I don’t want to romanticize it too much. The cold is hard on machinery as well as people:

–after leaving it for a week, the car needed a jump in order to start. the good news is that we found what appears to be a decent garage right around the corner. Handy.

–for a few days, the treadmill (near a drafty window, not next to a heater) was acting funny. Though now it’s mysteriously fixed itself.

–and worst of all, I think carrying my iPod around in the outside pocket of my backpack killed it. Well, it didn’t exactly die, but it wasn’t working right. After a series of versions of iPod CPR didn’t work (all following Apple’s directions, naturally), I went to reformat it using Apple’s own utility. The program crashed so badly that I had to manually restart the computer (and now the iPod won’t even turn on). I suspect repairs will be expensive for my $400 paperweight. I but I am of course going to do it because I use the thing every other day when it’s not broken.

Strangely enough, this morning’s cabdriver was even more upset about the Steelers’ loss than I was. And he’s never even been to Pittsburgh.

Now THAT was a disappointment. Time to watch a movie.

Yesterday, according to the weather channel’s website, it got down to -17F/-27C. According to my cabdriver, with windchill the “felt” temperature was -45C. If this was actually the case (cabbies have been known to exaggerate), that would be a new personal record for me. Last year, on this very weekend, I interviewed for the job I currently hold, and it got down to -40 degrees, where the two measurement scales meet.

The reason the Canadian government can’t populate “the north” is because “the south” of Canada is already far enough north.

For my non-local readers, I will state the obvious: cold of this magnitude is quite dangerous if you’re exposed to it for too long. There’s a certain sharpness on the first intake of breath upon leaving a building. Cold of this magnitude cuts and grabs at you. It has a bracing effect on me — quite the opposite of extreme heat and humidity, which I simply find heavy and pressing down upon my body. Last night, as we were leaving a bar, the lock on the inside of the door was actually frozen over. There was a group of us and we all marvelled at it in awe and slight horror. Earlier that evening, Carrie, Will and I had a 2-block or so walk up St. Laurent (the “main”) from dinner to the bar where we would hang out with a group of people celebrating our friend Jenny’s birthday, and that was two of the longest blocks of my life. Partly, it’s because I screwed up in the morning and did not put on thermal socks. I also should have grabbed my heavier duty gloves.

That said, I kind of liked it. I mean, like any rational person, I hated it and was desperate to get back inside (maybe that wasn’t rationality but the reptillian party of my brain kicking in). But somewhere in my mind — I don’t know if it’s some kind of sick tough guy thing or what — I liked the fact that it was so inhospitable out, and yet there I was with my friends having a good time at a bar. As was a great deal of Montreal, so far as I could tell. Plus, I got to wear my cashmere scarf all night, which is usually too warm to keep on once I’m inside. But it’s deliciously soft.

Deadly cold: a feast for my senses. Or something.