Day three of the plague

Yea and verily, this cold is kicking my ass. I had to stay home again today; even if I could summon the energy and concentration to do my job today, I’d just make everyone else sick. I can still get some more basic work done here this afternoon, but I need to find a way to get functional by tomorrow. Can’t miss three days in a row.

I’m sure some people would think I’ve gotten sick like this because I’m (largely) off meat, but that’s not it. I still eat seafood occasionally, I still take vitamins, etc. If anything I probably don’t eat enough vegetables (ironic, for a vegetarian…) or fruits. The Toronto Star actually has a story today about how easy it is to be vegetarian in this city.

.:.

Speaking of my job, my title includes the word “strategy”, a term used inaccurately and far too often. I take some flak for it — I often get accused of task-oriented people of “not doing anything, just thinking about things” — which doesn’t bother me, but it does start me wondering if what I work on is really strategy.

That depends largely on the role description, I suppose, and I won’t go into that here, but I read an interesting article last week by Penelope Trunk (aka The Brazen Careerist). In it she states that people inclined to think strategically are (Myers-Briggs personality type) typically INTJs.

The best thing you can do for your career is take a personality test to understand your strengths. If you are an INTJ you really are a strategist.  If you are not an INTJ, the fewer letters you have that match that, the further away from strategist you are. So get some self-knowledge before you declare yourself a strategist.

I am, in fact, an INTJ — I was an ISTJ in university when I first took the test but a few years ago came out INTJ — so while this may not mean much in itself, and I would never refer to myself as a “strategist”, it does help to reassure me that I am, in fact, in more or less the right field of work. Which is, you know, nice.

.:.

I haven’t used Schmap.com myself, and until Monday I’d never heard of the site, but whoever they are they decided to use one of my Flickr pictures for one of their new Paris guides. It’s a shot taken in Place des Vosges, for their Marais neighbourhood guide.

Of course, I can’t take any credit whatsoever for the shot; Nellie took it, just as she took all of the best shots from our trip to France. The girl has an eye.

[tags]vegatarian, strategy, myers-briggs, intj, schmap, paris, marais, place des vosges[/tags]

Where's the "blessed sinus relief" setting on this contraption?

The good: our fancy-pants Harmony 880 remote arrived today. Actually, it arrived last Tuesday, but the security desk downstairs somehow forgot to tell us. They do that a lot. Anyway, we fetched it tonight and I’ve spent my few remaining active brain cells figuring how to use it. Still working out the bugs but I think I’ve got it. For Nellie and I it’ll be sweet to only have one remote instead of wrangling 4 or 5; for visiting parents it’ll be nice to just press one button that says “Watch TV” or whatever.

The bad: no two ways about it, I’m sick. I am siiii-iiiick. I stayed home from work today and basically tried to figure out the optimal angle at which to lie down to a) minimize my headache, and b) maximize drainage from my sinus cavity. All the Tylenol cold & cough in the world didn’t make much difference; I’m hoping the mug of neo-citran cooling in front of me knocks me out. I need sleep.

The sacred: all I could do today was lie on the couch and watch a movie (higher brain functions: not present) so I watched The Devil and Daniel Johnston (imdb | rotten tomatoes), a documentary about the little-known cult folk singer. I knew a little bit about him from the buzz surrounding the film (which screened at TIFF a couple of years ago) and I know my brother was very affected by seeing him live, but that was it. I actually didn’t even know about the whole Kurt Cobain t-shirt thing. Watching the film was only marginally easier than listening to him sing; in both situations this man’s demons are on display for the whole world to see.

The profane: we also watched a documentary tonight (thank you writer’s strike!) called Fuck (imdb | rotten tomatoes). Yes, you read that right. Fuck. It is, predictably, an inspection of why the word is considered so naughty. It spends a bit of time on the origin of the word (hint: it’s not an acronym, despite what you’ve been told), looks at the history of its use in comedy and show business (starting, naturally, with Lenny Bruce), touches on what it means to first amendment rights and eventually becomes a discussion of conservative hysteria and hypocrisy (or at least that’s how it seemed to me; I’m sure to a conservative it seemed like a discussion of how liberalism is sending America into the toilet at Mach 3). While it was interesting subject matter, and it had a few laughs (especially from Billy Connolly and Bill Maher) the documentary tried much too hard to be cute and edgy at the same time. Not bad, but not great. And vertainly not for the faint of heart; the film takes pride in the fact that, were it to be aired unedited on American television, they would be fined $280 million dollars by the FCC.

[tags]harmony remote control, sinus cold, the devil and daniel johnston, fuck documentary[/tags]

An hour early

I stopped at A Taste Above on the way home tonight. It’s a take-away ready-to-go meal place just up the street. Pricey, but good food and I felt like some quick pasta for dinner. I got there around 6:15…closed. Wha? You’re catering to the busy after-work crowd and you close at 6 PM? Brilliant. Dear A Taste Above: a little advice…send whoever’s in charge of your company on an introductory business course. You’re welcome.

.:.

Esquire breaks down Jerry Bruckheimer’s Laws of Science. Example:

The Law of Inverse Emotional Importance

Oftentimes an event may appear significant when in reality it’s not. When confused, remember this simple rule: The significance of any event is inversely related to the speed of its motion.

Proof: Pearl Harbor, about the devastating attack that pushed the U.S. into World War II, features more slow motion than Samba Night at the hospice center.

.:.

Must…finish…assignment. But don’t…want…to.

Inside/friend voice says: suck it up, princess. It’s due Friday, and after that I’ve got a couple of weeks off before going away on course again. It’s just that everything else seems to be SO much more enjoyable right now…watching hockey, thinking about big problems (opportunities?) at work, spending time with Nellie, going to movies, drinking beer, even running at 6AM…I’m loving all of it right now. The last thing I want to do is more school work.

Good thing my wife is a) supportive of me disappearing into a book for several hours a night, and b) fond of television.

[tags]a taste above, esquire, jerry bruckheimer[/tags]

A morning of mild revelations

Something occurred to me yesterday: I am half my father’s age. Well, technically I was precisely half his age on Oct 10 (thanks Excel!) but in terms of years, I’m 32 and he’s 64. I remember when I was a kid I wondered how old I’d be when that happened; I didn’t have the math skills to just figure out that it was just 32 so I sat down and did the math. I wasn’t even ten years old at the time, so 32 seemed like centuries away. I couldn’t imagine being that old.

Also: I never thought I would own a brown suit, but I’m wearing one today for the first time.

Life’s full of surprises.

[tags]silly musings[/tags]

The reasons for my masochism

People occasionally ask me why I’m doing an MBA. Recently I’ve found it difficult to answer that; I’ve been down in the weeds of it for so long that it’s sometimes hard to remember why I signed up in the first place. So today I decided to write this, partly to explain it to people, and partly to remind myself. The major reasons:

Colleagues and managers told me I should. This wasn’t a reason so much as a driver. I actually wouldn’t have even considered it if a colleague, one of the first people I worked with when I returned to my company, hadn’t suggested I get into the program (my company has a special MBA program set up through a particular university). She was just about to finish hers and suggested I look into it. A couple of years later my new manager suggested I apply, and this time I did.

To assuage a bit of guilt. Yes, I have a business degree, and yes it’s from the same university from which I’m now seeking an MBA. However, my brain just wasn’t geared for learning in those four years, and what little sank in atrophied in the following five years as I took on a series of technical jobs. Around the time I signed up for the MBA I was back on the business side of things and starting to use those parts of my brain again, but I always felt like I hadn’t used those years as well as I could have. Signing up for the MBA helped me make up for that.

To create a good network of colleagues. Networking isn’t something I do well, or easily. It’s anathema to an introvert. My afore-mentioned colleague (and other people I’d since met who’d gone through the program) talked about the benefits of being thrown into a group of 30 people from all over the company and the networks that develop just by dint of being locked in a room with them. So far it’s worked pretty well; I know more people in different parts of my company (and country) now, and I’ve developed some pretty good friendships too.

I just always feel the need to learn something. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly, Dan’s gotta learn something new. I’m not happy unless I’m learning something on a semi-regular basis. As much as I’m looking forward to finishing this thing, I know that two months after I graduate I’ll take for German lessons or teach myself Python or sign up for digital photography classes. Actually, maybe I should delay the education for a little longer and sign myself up for a 10k…

Any of those strike you as weird? I’ve had people tell me they wouldn’t have signed up for four years of lost evenings and weekends for any of those reasons.

[tags]mba[/tags]

I'm a fine, fine fellow

In the summer I was struck by how much greener Toronto looked from our balcony than it does at street level. Now, with the leaves on vacation and the snow taking up residence, it just looks gray.

.:.

It’s not official yet — the paperwork still has to go through — but I heard back from our adviser today: we passed our final project. That effectively means that I am now a fellow of the Institute of Canadian Bankers. I’m now in the home stretch of finishing the MBA: 256 days left!

.:.

Poor Nellie’s not feeling well today. We had dinner at Fieramosca last night and were plied with a little too much Limoncello. It was supposed to be a quick meal, out by 8:30, but there’s really no such thing with us anymore. We kind of lost track of time somewhere around the sixth shot.

.:.

News from last week: Toronto councillor Giorgio Mammoliti asked for the army to be brought in. Not because of some snowdrifts, mind you. No, councillor Mammoliti wants the army to come in and crack down on gang violence.

Having had a few days to consider and weigh the councillor’s words, I have arrived at this conclusion: Giorgio Mammoliti is batshit crazy.

I’m all for curbing gang violence, councillor. I suggest you lobby for more police funding, or a special anti-gang task force. Perhaps you could move to ban handguns in the city, or increase funding to social programs that keep kids out of gangs. Any of those seem fairly reasonable, if not politically expedient. Maybe it’s my quaint inclination toward freedom, but I don’t think military occupation of a civilian area is something a democratically-elected politician should suggest.

Sigh…every time someone from this city mentions the army I just know the rest of the country’s going to make fun of us for the next three years.

[tags]toronto the gray, institute of canadian bankers, fieramosca, limoncello, giorgio mammoliti, gang violence[/tags]

I'm a real Torontonian now

I’m a little sore right now.

This morning I had to take a cab to a meeting north of the city. As we drove east on Adelaide, moving at a pretty good clip, we approached the light at Parliament. I could see that it was red, but we were driving like it was green. I don’t think the cabbie clued in; around the time that I started to say, “Hey, that light…” a dump truck came into view, heading south into the same intersection that we were about to cruise into. The cabbie jammed on the brakes and tried to curl left around the truck, but he didn’t quite make it. The cab slammed into the truck’s rear tires.

I had plenty of warning; I clearly figured out that the red-light situation before the driver did. I had lots of time to brace, and we were probably only doing 30km/h or so by the time we hit the truck, but I still went into the seat belt pretty hard. Fortunately I didn’t hit my head on anything, and didn’t feel whiplash-y at all. It didn’t even freak me out all that much; I just angrily told the cabbie (who was fine, but clearly a little disoriented) to call dispatch and send me another cab. The front end was pretty much trashed. I crossed the street to the south side and talked to the truck driver. He was fine, obviously, and so was his truck. He was just annoyed at being held up with the accident report. Anyway, I still had to get to my meeting, so I climbed in the replacement taxi and headed north.

Midway through the day some soreness started to set in. No muscular pain or pinched-nerve feeling (which is something that would worry me), just some soreness through my shoulder and chest muscles. Really, it just feels like I lifted a whole bunch of weight all at once, from tensing up and bracing like that. My boss sent me home from the meeting early; I decided against a sitting in the chairs at a walk-in clinic (or even Advil) and just laid down for a while to straighten out. Felt fine after an hour. My back hurts a little now, but I actually think that’s ’cause I don’t have my new chair adjusted properly yet.

Anyway, I guess being in a minor accident makes me just a little more Torontonian, even if I wasn’t driving. Thanks, Beck Taxi #725.

[tags]beck taxi, accident, adelaide, parliament, dump truck[/tags]

Starter this, you GoDork

I had my eyes checked today for the first time since I was…I don’t know, maybe 12? I’d probably have to ask my mother.

Anyway, it turns out my eyes are still primo quality. I did all the little tests and he told me that, barring any accidents, my vision should be fine for at least another ten years. I was actually a tiny bit surprised; I figured that 28 years of looking at computer screens had probably taken a toll on my eyes. Then again, neither of my brothers wear glasses, and they’re both older than me. I guess we should thank our parents for making us eat all those carrots as a kid…

.:.

Some music-related goodies for you:

  • Download this Rebekah Higgs song. It’s the catchiest thing I’ve heard in weeks. Oh, and…girlfriend du jour. [via Chromewaves]
  • For a while now Carrie Brownstein, of the late lamented Sleater-Kinney (one of the very few great rock bands to go out at their peak) has been blogging for NPR. It’s been a good read so far. She even made with the funny today. Check out the blog.
  • Download this Mogwai cover of The Pixies’ “Gouge Away”. It’s about six different kinds of good. There’s just something sublimely menacing about Black Francis lyrics sung with a Glaswegian accent. [via Stereogum]

.:.

The Toronto Star threw together a very sloppy piece today about the condo boom. The piece is subtitled “As the cost of homes skyrocket, more prospective homebuyers are giving up dreams of bungalows with white picket fences and are seeking alternatives,” but nothing in the piece supports this notion. There are tons of stats about how many condos are being sold, but apart from two anecdotal stories there’s no research to suggest this is why people are buying condos.

I own a condo. I know other people who own condos. I’ve never, ever spoken to someone who really wanted a house but just couldn’t afford one and, in desperation, bought a condo instead. I’m sure lots of people want to own a house and still be downtown, but when that doesn’t work out they don’t sulk and buy a condo. They move to Whitby. The condo owners I know bought one because they want to be downtown. They want ten minutes on the subway instead of 90 minutes on the 401. They don’t want to shovel walks and prune dead branches. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with living way out there (though it’s clearly not for me); the people who really want a house are willing to do it, and good on them. It’s exactly my point.

Condos aren’t low-priced substitutes for expensive houses. The suburbs are. Unfortunately the Star perpetuated that myth without backing it up, which means I’ll have to put up with the occasional condescending remark from a suburbanite (e.g., “Oh, well, everybody needs a starter home!”) when I mention I live in a condo.

[tags]eye test, rebekah higgs, girlfriend du jour, carrie brownstein, mogwai, pixies, gouge away, toronto condos[/tags]

Don't judge me. It felt like hand-stitched butter.

I needed to ease out of the work week and into the long weekend in tasty fashion last night, so we had some dinner and a couple of drinks at Volo with CBGB. A little veggie pasta, a Black Kat stout and a Mill Race and the unwinding was underway. We couldn’t muster much more energy than that, though, and with a busy weekend ahead of us we decided we’d better relax and catch up a TV backlog. And so we did.

This morning we got up and had breakfast at Eggstasy. Poor Nellie, she just can’t seem to get servers to understand the following:

The Toronto definition of eggs “over hard” does not equal the consistency to which she wants her eggs cooked, which is best described as “shoe leather.”

She asked for “fried, over really hard, nothing runny, no liquid whatsoever, completely cooked all the way through” and the server wrote down “over hard.” Of course, they came back all runny inside; she sent them back and when they returned they were still too runny. Now, granted, she’s very fussy about her eggs, but given the painstaking and blunt description she applies each and every time, I’d expect at least one cook in 10 to get it right. Sadly, it never, ever works. Anyway.

Our purpose today was shopping, so after a quick stop to look at some Herman Miller chairs (I want!) we went to Harry Rosen. I’ll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say when I left 90 minutes later picking up my credit card required oven mitts. It’s official…I have a weakness for two things: chocolate and nice clothes. I’m kind of worried; now that I’ve tried on a Canali suit I can’t go back. From this day on it’s a descent into Brioni territory, and that way lies madness. Anyway, it’s all stuff I needed (or at least wanted a lot) and I’m considering it an advance on my bonus. I hope.

We got home and ran a few more errands (finally getting a frame for the art we bought from a Parisien wine bar, picking up some wine & snacks, etc.) in preparation for tomorrow’s work. We figure it’s time to finish painting the joint, now that all the repairs are complete (hurrah!), and we’ve enlisted GB’s expertise to get us over the goal line. Wish us luck.

[tags]bar volo, eggstasy, herman miller, harry rosen, canali, brioni[/tags]