With glowing heart

Warning: embarrassing sentimentality follows. But it's OK, the second part will return you unscathed to the usual level of silliness.

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Here's a journal entry that I wrote on a Pacific-bound train twelve years ago, somewhere amid the lakes and forests of Western Ontario.

Rick was my seat-mate, a Toronto lad who was travelling to Jasper. When he woke up I didn't so much "talk to him" as "propose to him". Yup, not even one third of the way across and I was already in love with Canada, and had taken my first stumbling step towards citizenship.

At 8:15 am today, barring any unexpected obstacles, I will take the final step. Swear the oath of allegiance, sing the anthem, and complete the journey.

Regular readers will know how much I love my adopted home town of Vancouver, despite its flaws; my first day here was enough to erase any thoughts of moving to Toronto. That love extends to the rest of BC and beyond; Toronto is hip and happening, Montreal is vibrant and beautiful, Nova Scotia is scenic and friendly, and there's so much more still to see. Canadians are great people (although many Vancouverites are way too reserved for their own good), and they've built a (mostly) decent, tolerant, multicultural society that I'm proud to be a part of, the current government notwithstanding.

I've always felt at home in this country, from the very first time I set foot in Toronto after a few weeks in the US and thought "cool! Red mail boxes". As much as I love my home nation, Canada just feels more... open, I guess. There's much less of a class structure, people don't judge you based on your accent the same way they do in the UK, and everything's just so new... it feels like the possibilities are endless. And there's so much space.

Today is a doubly proud day because I'm here in my own right. I earned my status through my education and work experience, not through marriage to a random Canadian I met on a train when I was 20, or even in a friend's house when I was 26.

I will remain a proud Brit. I'm lucky enough to be allowed to hold two citizenships; if I wasn't, I honestly don't know whether I'd have taken this final step. But since I am allowed, I applied for Canadian citizenship within three days of becoming eligible.

But I'll save my immigration stories for another time; today is about true patriot love.

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"No it's not! It's aboot dignity! It's aboot respect!"

(Sorry, couldn't resist)

On with the celebrations! There will be champagne! Possibly on the beach!

\O/

(or should that be \Ø/ ?)

Peerless

I ran into my old boss last week. She was in a rush to get to an appointment, but stopped for a hug and a brief catch up. And then she asked the dreaded question:

"So, do you miss us?"

Well, yes and no.

While my previous job taught me a lot, I don't miss it. I don't miss the nightmarish combination of boredom and stress, and I don't miss the friends I made there, because I still get to see them. What I do miss is the sense of being part of a team of my peers.

I have some fantastic colleagues in my new job, from the PIs to their postdocs, residents, nurses, students, lab managers, and administrators. And they're doing some amazing research, the kind that makes a geek like me go "cooooooooool!" in seminars. I'm so much happier in an academic environment, around people doing work that has the potential to make a real difference.

But I don't get to work with my peers. I usually work in very small teams, consisting of me and maybe two or three PIs. There are other grant wranglers around in other departments (and I have my online peeps too, of course - hi, Bean-Mom!), and I do interact with them, but not on a daily or even a weekly basis. That's just the way it has to be; it's a different dynamic because it's different work.

I didn't realise how much I miss the mutual support and learning opportunities that come with frequent peer interactions until very recently, when I took a writing course organised by a different department. Most of my fellow students were from that department, and they get to work with each other on a regular basis. They're visibly, tangibly, a team, who share experiences and help each other solve problems, and I envy them that.

A friend (who may or may not wish to out him/herself here) gave me some excellent advice; now that the course is over, I should contact the organiser, say how much I enjoyed interacting with my peers, and ask if there's any way for me to be included in the occasional team meeting or other activity. As soon as this crazy week is over, I plan to do just that.

But what did I tell my former boss?

Well, I told her the truth.

"I miss the team. But my new job is a much better fit for me".

And with a smile, a wave, and a promise of a coffee date, we went our separate ways.

No regrets.

On the pool

Our local swimming pool seems to have a rule that it must contain at least one creepy old man at any given time.

There's a guy who hangs out in the shallow end, goggles on, but who only ever gets wet above the chest when a female swimmer approaches in his lane, at which point he ducks under water and stares. There's another man who never even gets in the water, but just wanders around or sits in a chair, staring at people. A new guy last night was obsessing over how the instructors teach the kids to swim, and started to berate one of them in the middle of a lesson for doing it wrong. (Buddy, you don't get to talk about streamlining until you've lost at least 50 pounds and waxed your back).

This situation means that the pool's female users are very proficient in the art of the disgusted look, specifically of the "you filthy pervert!" variety.

And last night, one of those looks was directed at me!

I would like to state for the record that I do not have a pregnant woman fetish. It's just that two of my friends were in the dive pool with all the other expectant mothers, floats secured above and below their bumps, and doing some gentle exercises with the rest of the class. I'd chatted to one friend before the class started - she tries to arrive early so we can do a few lengths together - but we hadn't had a chance to arrange the weekend's social events. And I completely missed the other friend arriving, because she was running late and went straight to the class. So as I walked past the dive pool on my way to the showers, I mouthed "call me!" and did the thumb-pinkie finger telephone sign with my hand.

Twice.

I did this because my two friends were at opposite ends of the pool, but the effect was that I seemed to be trolling the entire class for a date. At least that's what I guessed when the woman next to my second friend gave me the familiar "you filthy pervert!" look.

I would also like to state that I am not an exhibitionist, and did not exactly plan to stage a mobile one-woman wet t-shirt competition. It's just that I forgot to bring a towel, and had to put my cycling gear back on and ride home before I'd dried off.

Honest!

Iz a hard life

O hai!

We iz takin control of MacTavish. Iz better dan walkin onnit and bein yelled at by dat hoomin wiv funny axent. (MacTavish iz nice n warm on da feetsies though)

We haz noticed dat u hoomins iz runnin around and worryin all the tiem. U shud be like da kitties n lern 2 relax after hard day of bein in gardin and botherin the crowsies.

Here iz how:






See? Iz eazy.

Gotta go, hoomin iz comin in.

Kthxbai

They're not weeds

they're carbon offsets

destined for the municipal composting programme (Vancouver rocks)

and (hopefully) soon to be replaced by something more useful

Next job: pull an even bigger pile of weeds from the front garden...

From far and wide, O Canada

One of my oldest and best Vancouver friends...

• who was a grad student in my postdoc department...
• who I first met (properly) at a house party in early 2002...
• who turned up with a huge group of friends...
• who the party's host told me I should definitely meet, because she was dating (now married to) a local guy with tons of single male friends...
• at whose home I met one of said friends for the first (and second) time...
• who picked me up and drove me, my Dad, and my sister to the resulting wedding when no local taxi firm would take an advance booking, and when they were then all 100% occupied by a double cruise ship arrival when I called back later as instructed...
• who has worked insanely hard for years to convert her professional qualification into something that is recognised in Canada...
  

is going to become a citizen less than 2 weeks after I do!

We're planning a combined party in celebration of this momentous event. 100% Canadian food, booze, and music.

Pretty awesome, eh?!

Silver linings

There's one good thing about the Canucks being out of the playoffs.

Before:


After:


(Explanation for non-hockey fans)

Thanks, Auntie Mermaid!

Your present for Saba

(geddit?)

was most gratefully received!

If in doubt, PANIC!

email sent: 11.45 pm on Tuesday

email read: 8.03 am on Wednesday

email content*: "Cath, please make sure we have the project ready for the extremely important meeting with external collaborators at 8.30 am, thanks"

my existing knowledge of said project: 0%

panic level: extreme

time of resolution of problem: 8.17 am

resolution of problem: "I wonder if he meant projector?"

meeting: awesome. Seriously**. I really, really love my job sometimes! Science rocks!

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*paraphrased for blog reader comprehension
** the completely unrelated afternoon meeting was distinctly un-awesome

This just gave me chills

And it's a commercial!

How dumb am I?

Important things I forgot to mention in my last post:

• I've had a chat with my boss, and I'm now much more confident about keeping my job when my contract runs out in November! The exact source of my salary - and therefore my job description - is still to be decided, but my boss and other PIs have seen enough benefit from having me around that they want to keep me. I won't truly believe I'm safe until I've seen a new contract* and/or the first paycheque after the end of my original contract, but I'm feeling a lot more secure right now.
• It was my two year blogiversary on Saturday! I only figured this out about 10 minutes ago, when I had to read my first-ever post for actual valid work-related reasons.

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*I need to re-read the original contract to figure out whether I'll need to sign a new one, or just keep on working away with no need for documentation.

Good week!

In the last 7 days:

• I found out that I passed my citizenship test, and I have a date for my ceremony! I'll become a Canadian citizen* on May 29th. This means that I'll miss out on voting in the BC election by a couple of weeks, but after 7 years of dealing with various flavours of immigration hassle, I'm not complaining!
• I finally tracked down the cheque I was supposed to get in January, for some overtime I put in on a massive grant that had a budget for such things. Turns out they'd tried to just cut me a regular cheque, not realising that I was an employee and not a freelancer, and it got stalled when a different office found a match for my name in the employee list, but couldn't find my email address. Now they know who I am, they're going to add the amount to my next pay-cheque instead.
• Another cheque is in the post! It's the first of the royalties from a long and difficult freelance highschool textbook writing project that ended in January 2008. I'll try to find out how much I'm allowed to blog about this ;)

So, yeah, I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself. Neither cheque is very large, but it's a great start, and means I get to write off all kinds of interesting things on my next tax return. And becoming Canadian is very important to me, so that's hugely exciting, not to mention a massive relief!

So, seeing as it's the weekend, let's have some fun!

We can haz captions?

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*well, dual British-Canadian citizen. Just like Mr E Man! I wouldn't have applied for Canadian citizenship if I'd had to give up my British.

Yeah, baby!

In a recent comment on Expression Patterns, I complained about the poor quality of Vancouver's newspapers, and especially their obsession with putting the Canucks on the front page come hell global pandemic or high water.

At the risk of being a massive hypocrite, I would like to congratulate the editors of the Province on this one specific occasion for successfully summing up the mood of an entire city with a photo and a couple of words:


Keep up the good work!

Rabid ninja wookie pirates

Last night I caught Mr E Man and Divorcing Friend* watching the last ten minutes of a show called "Deadliest Warrior"**. The concept of this high quality television programme is an in-depth and very shouty-macho dissection of a hypothetical fight between different kinds of warrior. Pirate vs. Knight, Viking vs. Samurai, Shoalin Monk vs. Maori, Spartan vs. Ninja - you get the idea. Completely stupid and pointless***.

Unless...

I decided that the only way to cope was to start suggesting even more ridiculous match-ups. I started with "drunken Scotsman vs. American crack-head", and they took the ball and ran with it:

"A Wookie and a Klingon!"

"Sarah Palin vs. a rabid monkey!"

"Wolverine and a zombie!"

This proved to be much more entertaining than either actual show. As was Facebook. And an actual book.

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*still living with us, despite becoming the official tenant of our basement suite at the weekend. OK, so he has no bed yet, but still. I'm starting to get a bit annoyed. At least he's using the shower down there though.

**their excuse was that they were waiting for the start of "The Ultimate Fighter: United States vs. United Kingdom", which is kinda like saying that you only stabbed someone because you were waiting for your new gun to be delivered. And no, just because I am British, I am not suddenly interested in watching UFC-based reality TV with you.

***for the record, Mr E Man agrees, but asserts that he has a right to watch stupid and pointless TV after working so hard: 12 hours a day, 7 days a week at the moment. He may have a point.

Maybe you CAN go home again

During my last visit to the UK, I met up with a good friend who was also my roommate for three years while we both did our PhDs.

Former Roommate attempting to steal my "perfect Canadian husband", as she calls him

As we said goodbye at the station after a day of showing Mr E Man around the pubs of Edinburgh, she said "you know, when you moved to Canada I thought I'd never see you again. But you come back. I see you every couple of years, and it's always like you've never been away. I can live with that."

Science is weird. Everyone moves so often that you end up with friends all over the world, but with only maybe one or two friends left in the town where you all met. My experience in Vancouver has been different because, for the first time in my life, the majority of my friends are not students and post-docs. Not that people don't move away, because they do; in the last year I've said goodbye to two good friends, both of whom moved to be closer to their families (Ontario and UK) after failing to find affordable childcare in Vancouver.

But on Friday, one of them came back! She still works for the company I left in 2007, and was back in town for training, along with a couple of other former colleagues who have also left the main office to spread out around the world. We all went for beers after work, and again it was as if she'd never been away. It felt so natural to sit on the sunny patio with a pint in hand, and to chat about work, families and life in general.

Having cried at someone else's leaving party recently, I find this to be very reassuring. With some people, it will always be possible to start up again exactly where you left off. True friendship doesn't fade with time or distance.

Favourite time of year

There are whole streets lined in pink.


It's just stunning.