Les Bonnes Choses

I already expressed these sentiments in a comment on my own note on Facebook, but that was before I made the return trip home. I just got back from a trip to San Diego where I am a candidate for a postdoctoral position at UCSD working with Jeff Elman and Marta Kutas -- though I quickly figured out that, in saying you work in so-and-so's lab, all you are really doing is indicating where your mail should be routed, because everyone works with everyone down there. It's like some kind of research orgy or something. Probably pays something like $88/hr (see Carrie's note if you can).

I don't travel quite as much as, say, John, or Chris, but I have made a decent number of trips into the US over the span of my postgraduate career. I can truly say that I have never before had a more pleasant trip. Sure, on the way down there was a brief period of panic when I was unsure whether I would catch my connecting flight out of Detroit. But in all my interactions with the various incarnations of what is now the Department of Fatherland Homeland Security, everyone was pleasant and non-confrontational on both ends of the trip. Compare this to the last time I went through the border crossing, coincidentally for the purpose of my first meeting with Jeff Elman. Back then, the inquisitor at the Ambassador bridge gave me quite a rough time. When asked what the purpose of my trip was, I replied that it was for a meeting. The moron actually asked, "So why doesn't he come up there to meet you? Why do you have to come here?" I still fantasize about smacking him in the face and calling him a dipshit, but that fantasy always comes to a grinding halt when I get charged with assault and barred from entry into the US in response. Apparently, my ability to fantasize is impaired by my mind's insistence on imposing realistic constraints, and so unlike most people, I fantasize about being able to fantasize.

I've blogged about my dreams a couple of times before, usually because they are funny. The other night, however, I had a decidedly unfunny dream in which I was on an airplane that hit turbulence and went into a nosedive. I mention this because it's kind of interesting how dreams can give you insight into your behaviour because one often takes the dream to be real at the time (I say often because I usually disbelieve my nightmares and take over them, turning them into movies, for example, where I can redo the scene until I get it right). Anyways, the interesting thing about this particular nightmare was the chance, however unpleasant it was, to find out what would go through my mind in the event of a plane crash. One generally only gets that chance once, and by that point, they don't get a chance to share any insight gained.

Speaking of nightmares...

Okay, not really, but I couldn't easily segue from nightmares to routers. But I was just reviewing the comments people left behind for some of my earlier posts. It turns out that Pat was able to identify the problem I was having with google going AWOL, when he suggested that the router might be to blame and likely just needed a reboot. Evidence supporting his theory was provided just before I started today's entry.

Pleasant dreams! (ooh! thunder and lightning! I love thunderstorms)

I have been encouraged to mention my dream from a couple of nights ago which was extremely random. In it, I was some kind of investigator driving around in either a convertible, or else on a bicycle (and probably both, intermittently). I was looking for some kind of shady dealer, who ended up being some made-up person from the Gosnell family (Tom Gosnell is one of London's past mayors, is presently on city council, and his family does well for themselves with their company, Gosnell Paving). And after I caught up with this made-up Gosnell character, we had to duck under a bridge and keep out of the searching beam of light coming from the flying spaghetti monster which was circling above like a helicopter. That last part I think came from me being able to hear the sound of the fan, which I have turned on every night for the white noise to drown out the incessant whine of my tinnitis (and for all I know, the constant hum for 8 hours a night is aggravating the problem).

Last night's dream just involved Amy chastising me because my experiment that I ran using cohort and rhyme competitors didn't use ERP. Or something like that. I think it made sense at the time. But in your dreams, most things do.