Blessed by the Potato

I went to the Superstore today to get some sub buns, and also hope that they had restocked the bottles of Coke Zero that were on sale last week, but which they ran out of in the first day (so I have a rain check for them). I should also note that I’ve really wanted subs the last few days. I went on Wednesday and they did have some sub buns, but they were already a day or two old, and they’re only good for 2 or 3 days, so I figured I’d wait. I went back yesterday, and there were no sub buns, so I just got some pasta and cookies (which were on sale — a terrible idea I’ll get to in a bit. It should be illegal to make cookies that delicious that cheap). I’ve been eating a lot of pasta and soup and KD (by which I mean PC deluxe macaroni and cheese) because I haven’t been able to get sub stuff this week, and that’s a lot of pot washing and I was frankly getting sick of it.

So today, I’m there, and there’s no sub buns. What the fuck? I even went there kind of early (but not so early that I might have risked being there before the sub buns came out). They had fields of panini buns, but the panini buns don’t make particularly good sandwiches. I mean, you can put some garlic and cheese on them and throw that in the oven for a pretty decent garlic bread, but a sandwich? Nuh-uh. The RCSS here in London has the best sub buns — obviously I think highly of them if I went to the grocery store three days in a row to try to get some.

In the end I just grabbed 6 cases of Coke Zero and went on my way.

As I was explaining this on the phone to Wayfare, she asked “Why couldn’t you just get some wraps? You can put all the same stuff in it, and have wraps for lunch.”

And here’s the thing: on a scale of one to wraps, the best a wrap can ever hope to do is wrap. A sub, on the other hand, is like Chuck Norris round-house-kicking you in the mouth. It’s an awesome flavour parade that has incredible flexibility to be toasted, panini-pressed, or eaten just the way it is. Plus, the texture is just so much better: a wrap is basically just packaging for the sad little salad you’ve made yourself, whereas a sub bun is a major player in its own right (and Wayfare of all people should know that since she often has those sub buns all on their own without toppings). It’s an adventure into a mythical land of bready bubbles that you only get to swim in after crashing through that hint of a crust. And the RCSS sub buns are so good that, in my own home, I can make a sub that’s better than anything Subway or Mr. Sub can offer, that’s also healthier and less expensive. It’s just that variety of awesome that I was looking for, and was denied.

So at the bottom of the receipt was that invitation to go take a survey with them, and I was all like “Yarrr! I’m-a gonna give your bakery manager guy a bad review and let you know how very disappointed I was about my three trips specifically to get your sub buns that ended in disappointment!” Yet much to my surprise there was no comment field at all where I could start ranting at these clowns, so I had to settle for putting down “very unsatisfied” with the bakery department and hope they figure it out.

Then it was time to work on reanalysis. People don’t understand the importance of the re in research. There’s a lot of re going on.

So as I’m analyzing I’m feeling you know, a little stressed, a little dumb, a little bored even, and I’m trying to focus and not make mistakes and most importantly just get it done.

Then I started to wonder: what if I become an evil mad scientist when I get my PhD? Would my effort to hurry up and finish actually be to the detriment of mankind? Would my mind-controlled zombie minions overthrow the world hegemon we suffer under today, only to replace it with an iron-fisted rule of my own making that was even worse for the everyman? Perhaps procrastination is the only thing standing between my genius maniacal lust for power, and the safety of all living things?

No, no, that’s just the procrastination talking, back to work.

Now, as a scientist, I can recognize a pattern. Mostly. Anyhow, when I last finished a graduate degree, I got really, really fat. I was really, really sick through a lot of that too, so I have excuses and doctor’s notes and what-not, but the fact of the matter is that I gained 40 pounds in a really short, intensely stressful period of time, and despite my (best isn’t the word I’m looking for here, so let’s say:) incredibly average efforts, I only ever managed to lose 10 of those (many of which, I gained back this winter). I did get in much better cardiovascular shape, which I’m moderately proud of, but it’s still been a long-term goal to get back to my mid-MSc weight. I consider it a bloody miracle of self-control that I haven’t turned into a minor planetoid and haven’t even re-crossed that high water mark, so feel free to leave me encouraging accolades in the comments section, but nonetheless under normal* amounts of stress I haven’t made much progress, so I’ve decided that I have to be especially careful as I get into the intense writing-up-and-defending portion of this degree. So I’m thinking about what kind of exercise regime I should try to set up to stay in shape and how strict of a diet I should attempt to stick to, all while I’m doing analysis. I’m even starting to think about how awesome I’ll look as a slimmer Dr. Potato.

Of course, as I’m doing said analysis, I’ve got the box of on-sale cookies beside me, nomming away as I edit these files. It’s just go-go-go-go-go over here, I’m totally in the zone, backspace backspace, add 5, retypte, nom nom, down two lines… next thing I know it’s 1 am and I realize I haven’t had a meal for like 12 hours and I’m not the slightest bit hungry.

Then I realize I just ate nearly 400 g of cookies, roughly 1900 calories worth, while I was doing my thing. Damnit, this “watch what you eat during the high stress time” is going really, really poorly to start with.

Wayfare’s on the phone and I’m relating my day to her, and wondering if I should maybe go throw up a little because that surely can’t be good for me. Except that I worry that that may be the first step to a rather serious eating disorder. “Oh, it’s no surprise you feel sick if you ate almost a pound of cookies!” she says.

No, no, I don’t feel sick at all. I feel abso-frigging-fan-tastic. Think about eating a cookie or a half dozen cookies. You feel pretty good, right? They’re cookies, you had some, life is good, the universe is far more balanced with the cookies inside you rather than inside that stupid box where they weren’t doing anybody any good.

Now think about how good you’d feel if you had 72 cookies.

Yeah, it’s a party in your mouth, and your brain’s all tingly on the glucose and happy hormones. For the short-term, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this scenario. You could race a goddamned horse and ride a tiger into battle and analyze the ever loving hell out of some data. YEAAAAH!

“You don’t feel sick to your stomach at all?” she asks.

“No,” I say, apparently really quickly, like one of the Gilmore girls, though it really doesn’t sound all that fast to me, “I’ve been trained from a very young age to be able to digest intense amounts of junk food. I’m like a samarai, or a cookie ninja, just that kind of lifelong, total dedication to intense training that produces a level of total awesomeness that’s hard to look at directly. I mean, if the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters were to come into our plane of existence and try any shit in this day and age, let me tell you, I’d handle that situation. That’s the kind of digestive system I have going here.” I’m sure you’ve seen examples of it elsewhere: my supervisor has been eating so many hot peppers over his lifetime that at this point he can basically consume fire. I’m like that, but for sugar and starches.

She giggles for a bit “Oh, I wish I was recording this right now.”

Anyway, on the subject of talking to Wayfare via the phone, the other night she says to me “How is it we’ve been going out for almost 9 years and I never knew you could draw??”

“I what? I still don’t know that I can draw, what are you talking about?”

“Your post, you drew! I’ve never seen you draw before!”

“That? That’s not drawing, it’s just a quick sketch, and it’s not very good. I’d do stick-people, but then I’d be ripping off Randall Monroe.”

“It’s pure great! It even kind of looks like you!”

“Ooookaaaaay.”

Finally, “disappointment” is a funny word. You’re never appointed with something, are you? I mean, you can be appointed to something, or appoint a room with some froody furnishings, or have an appointment for a colonoscopy, which you can then be disappointed in, but it’s really not the same thing.

* normal for graduate school, which is intense for all you sonsofbitches in the “real world” who think you have it so much tougher just because you can get fired at any time and have to be “productive” and pay taxes and don’t get to play frisbee on Wednesday afternoons just because it’s so fucking gorgeous outside that it really is a sin to stay in and look at the computer screen when spring is in the air…

I went to bed last “night” at about 5 am. I have no idea why I do that sometimes. Way back in the day, when I used to pound back Jolt colas daily just because my heart had gotten so used to the constant caffeine bath that it would stop a little here and there without it, I used to stay up all night sometimes because the workload in UofT physics was a little insane sometimes. Even on my days off through the summer I’d stay up until about dawn, with the appearance of the ball of fire in the sky a serving as my reminder* to go to bed. I was my most productive after midnight, getting all kinds of stuff done on crazy timetables. Lately, however, my most productive time seems to have shifted a few hours earlier, to about 9 pm – 2 am. Anything after 3 am is a waste these days, nothing gets done. I sometimes wonder if I fall asleep in my chair, since last night I didn’t get a single thing done (not one sentence written, and I didn’t even watch more TV!) after about 3 am. I have no idea where the two hours between when I stopped working/reading/watching TV and when I actually climbed into bed went.

They certainly weren’t spent cleaning.

Anyhow, so tonight I have to go to bed substantially earlier because I have a meeting at 9 am tomorrow. I had my dinner and everything, and was in bed by about 11:30. Not too shabby.

Then a little after midnight I find I have to go pee. So I untuck all my covers, stumble out to the bathroom, and do my thing. Three minutes later, I have to go again. Ok, fine, off we go. I don’t even get my breathing settled and my hands re-warmed after crawling back into bed before I have to go a third time. Sighing at myself, I stumble back out to the washroom… and there’s nothing left.

“Ok,” I say, actually out loud, which seemed a lot less crazy when my cat was around and I could talk out loud to her “fuck you body, I’m going to go surf the internet until you make up your mind and let me sleep.” So I go off to see if John Hempton’s got anything new for me, since he’s wide awake on purpose down in Australia time. Sure enough, he’s got short post up about Jim the Realtor and some funny business in house pricing. I watch the video, and man, somebody take Jim’s video camera away. I have no idea how video blogging became such a “thing”. Audio podcasts I find annoying enough that I subscribe to exactly zero, but I can at least see the utility of being able to consume them in an environment away from the computer (e.g., on the train). But most video bloggers are not using the medium very effectively. Take Jim the Realtor’s post there: 9 minutes to get to the point. Nine, monotonous, hand held shaky, minutes. We would all have been better served by Jim trading in the video camera for a still camera and a keyboard. We could have skimmed through the comparables with their pictures and gotten to the point in about a minute (depending on your reading speed) and wouldn’t have had to listen to him talk.

Anyhow, that’s 10 minutes gone, and I’m starting to return to normal, so I decide to finally finish an idea for a post I had last week. I had a presentation and wore a shirt with buttons on it (and a collar!) which is pretty fancy attire for a grad student. After my presentation, another student commented on my dress-up day: “You know, you look so much better when you put some effort into dressing up! People say that your whole outlook and attitude is shaped by what you wear, and if you dress for success you may find it. You should wear a power suit on Monday!” And of course, this is what went through my head:

* – Seriously, I just forget to go to bed sometimes — my tired reflex is broken. I used to forget to eat sometimes for 12 or 14 hours at a time too, but now I’m fat and can only wish dieting was that easy.

Peter Watts was found guilty for obstructing an officer. All he did was get out of his car during a search and ask what the problem was. For that he was beaten, maced, and to add insult to injury, sent back to Canada in December without his winter jacket. As if all that wasn’t punishment enough, a court has now also convicted him for obstructing an officer — a crime that can apply to such heinous acts as questioning an officer, or not complying with an order quickly enough (and here noncompliance can include asking “why?” when an officer orders you to the freezing pavement in December).

There was some half-joking talk here of boycotting some travel to the US because of how crazy the border had become. Now the next time we have a conference in the states, I think it will be a serious consideration.

American border guard: get your heads out of your asses.

I’m sure you’ve all heard it before me (since people have been telling me about it while I haven’t been watching/reading the news myself lately): a Prius in California went out of control, and the police had to issue instructions over the loudspeaker to the driver, who then managed to safely stop the car.

I (and many other Prius owners) are anxiously awaiting the full report to try to find out what really went on. I don’t want to prematurely pass judgement one way or the other (on the car or on the driver) while the facts are so thin (and a media in full-hyperbolic frenzy is not usually reliable when it comes to small details).

The biggest questions in my mind immediately were:

1. Why did he not turn the car off?

2. Why did he not put the car in neutral?

Indeed, these are two of the steps that have been widely publicized as ways to stop an out-of-control car as the Toyota recall mess has progressed. An accelerator could become stuck in any car, not just a Toyota, and drivers should know how to manage that situation! It’s possible that he had a rare problem crop up, but poor crisis management lead to it becoming national news.

Now, if he did try these basic steps, and the car didn’t obey those inputs, then we have a more serious problem on our hands. That would represent two levels of failure, and be an extreme safety concern.

Since, at the direction of the officer, he was able to shut the car down and stop, I have to initially suspect that he did not try to turn the car off or shift to neutral (or use the emergency brake?!) until after he spent several minutes on his joyride, which to me clearly indicates at least some driver-error interaction in making the whole situation worse (though a mechanical/electrical/computer problem may have initiated the cascade of failure). **And how did he stop the car eventually? By turning it off under direction of the CHP officer.

So, until a level-headed report with all these facts comes out, the take-home message: learn how to control your car in an emergency situation. CAA and Young Drivers, last I checked, offered one-off refresher lessons if you need it. Or, educate yourself: how do you turn off your car and/or shift to neutral if the throttle sticks? What happens if you do that? For most cars, there is no harm in trying, under safe conditions (i.e., no other traffic — better yet, get some friends together and rent some time on a closed track) to get up to speed, shift to neutral, and stop. Do it. Find out what happens (if anything) to your power steering and brake assist while you’re in a calm state of mind and in control of the situation. You won’t harm your car*. At the very least, look it up so you know academically.

* – probably. I wouldn’t hurt your car. But who knows what you‘ll do. ;)

If you are in this situation and want to use the brakes, apply the brakes hard and do not try to slow gradually because you will overheat the brakes and experience brake fade. Try to stop completely in one go.

One interesting twist is that the Prius (and many other newer cars) has a push-button start, rather than a conventional key-turn. That means you can’t just turn the key to turn it off, you have to push and hold the button for a few seconds if you want to power-off the car while moving (in park, you just tap the button). Now, this is the same behaviour as nearly every personal computer/cell phone/etc. on the market today. Push and hold to power off. In an interesting bit of user-interaction ergonomics, Toyota is reportedly considering adding “rapidly tapping the button” as a method to turn off the car, since that’s what people may attempt in a crisis.

Update: Someone posted a link to the 911 call at http://10newsblogs.com/audio/prius-911call.mp3 — the 911 operator does instruct him many times to shift to neutral and how to turn the car off, and he doesn’t respond. In fact, most of the call consists of her telling him to shift to neutral, and he just swears and tells her landmarks he’s passing. Don’t know yet if he didn’t hear her, if he tried and it didn’t work… but people are starting to suspect that he’s a hoax. Now I really can’t wait for a real report on the whole thing…

Here I am on a holiday Monday, looking at the inside of people’s brains — basically technological mind-reading — while making funny noises with my mouth.

Boom-bi-chika-bum-ba-bum-ditty-do.