My life is a romantic comedy, minus the romance

So, picture this: I go out to a party to meet up with some friends from high school (and beyond), and at the end of the night, I'm chatting with this nice young lady, and get up the courage to ask her for her phone number. Even more surprising than that is that she gives it to me, even though she has been speaking with me for a while, and even knows I live with my folks (hey, I believe in being up front, even to a fault).


Not wanting to seem too desperate, and plus to give her a chance to jump off a bridge for what she's done, I don't call right away. I figure the number is safe on my phone, and will be ready when I am. I decide to wait from Sunday until Tuesday. It turns out, Tuesday night I go up to Kartbahn, because it's their 9th anniversary party, and I know there will be lots of fun things going on, not the least of which will be crazy drunken go-karting. Of course, I take part (but not so much on the drinking part). Problem is, I didn't empty out my pockets of important things like my wallet and CELLPHONE!! Low and behold, after about 3 laps around the track, someone holds something up and says, "Is this yours?" Turns out it is mine: it's my cellphone. I sorta laugh, and then get it from him. It's only a free Pay-as-you-Go cellphone, so I wouldn't be too sad if there's a scratch or two on it. Well, it turns out, some joker (probably me) ran over the damn thing, and now the LCD screen is totally pooched! It looks like a rainbow of fruit flavours, but not nearly as nice. I can't see a damn thing on the phone, including retrieving my saved phone numbers. Including the girl's! The first time in years I ask for a girl's number, and this shit happens! Clearly Xenu has it out for me.

It turns out the girl is a friend of a friend of a friend, and I've managed to track down her email address, so I wrote her right away explaining the situation, but I still haven't heard back from her... I guess it was never meant to be.

What's new, pussycat?

First off, sorry for my lack of production. I mean, there are probably only two people who read this thing, and I'm one of them. And the other one is a jerk. But in case they don't know what's been going on in the 'Fax, let me tell you:

I witnessed a pretty decent car crash last week. It was right in front of the Student Union Building on the Dalhousie campus. It was a simple "not stopping at an unmarked intersection", with both drivers thinking they had the right of way and not slowing down. The cars collided and actually rolled right toward my friends and I. Apparently they hadn't been looking, because my, "Heads up, car crash" saved the life of one of my friends. OK, maybe not life, but definitely fancy leather shoes. I called 911 for the second time in just over a year*, and helped some of the folks out. One of the vehicles was a cab with a couple of passengers who were visiting on a cruise ship. "Welcome to Halifax! Here's some whiplash, now get the hell out!"

Which brings me to why the heck am I hanging out on Dalhousie campus. Well, that's because I'm working there now! But, not in the traditional "exchange of services for payment" type of work, it's more my services, and less of their payment... I'm working in the lab run by one of a former grad student from U of A, Alan Doucette. He's a couple of years older, so that makes me feel not quite as pathetic. But to be honest, it's been great, because I'm learning some great new instruments and techniques, and making some great connections with industrial people, which is where I plan on ending up after I graduate. Sure, I'm not making much cash, but my expenses are non-existent, so it all balances out.

So, that's all the news fit for print. Now that I'm in the lab, and more motivated, I'm writing more, and that means more updates/rants here, too. I know you're all so excited!

*First 911 call was in Edmonton, when I managed to turn my barbeque's propane tank into a fancy flamethrower, and couldn't get close enough to turn it off. Luckily, the firemen had these fancy devices called "gloves" that they used to accomplish what I couldn't.