#14 Watch the Indiana Jones films

Status: Watched

My attention to this list has reached even higher levels of slackness. Though if there was one image I wanted to leave languishing at the top of my blog, it's the Baconator.

Either way, it's probably inexcusable that I haven't updated this task, which was completed by the time Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was released.

Perhaps it's because they were ridiculously hyped before I had a chance to see them, but I do feel the Indiana Jones franchise is overrated. That Empire magazine recently voted Raiders of the Lost Ark the second-greatest film of all time only cemented my belief. I mean, it's very good, but the second-greatest film ever? I don't see it. I know I'm a fan and I know Indiana Jones was partly inspired by 007, but I find a number of the Bond films significantly superior to the Indy flicks.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom's dark story is undermined by a screeching heroine and annoying child, while Sean Connery's appearance in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade elevated that film to equal status to Raiders, in my view. The controversial Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is an adequate, even fun follow-up, but, like another of this summer's resurrections, The X-Files: I Want To Believe, it didn't really do much to warrant bringing these characters back.

#50 Eat vegetarian for a month

Status: No-Meat November is underway

It's on. No meat for 30 days. That's 720 hours. That's 43,200 minutes. No bacon, no chicken, no turkey, no hulking steak, cooked medium-well ... a mouth-watering eight ounce slab of meat that falls off the bone. And, most definitely and most damningly, no Baconator, a burger to which no adjectives do justice. 

It's Day 6, and I have the shakes. It might be due to the fact my arteries have less fat coursing through them than on the day of my birth (I seem to recall munching on a ham sandwich in the maternity ward). Or it might be the fact I'm currently more spinach than man. What percentage of the human body is normally composed of water? 70 percent? I reckon all of that water has been absorbed by the spinach currently inside of me. What is it with vegetarians and weird vegetables such as spinach and artichokes? Carnivores are quite happy to settle for potatoes or carrots or – on a particularly adventurous day – a handful of green beans. But the minute you banish dead animals from the house, you somehow wind up on a diet of oddball veggies like asparagus.

Anyway, I'm contemplating creating a range of products designed to ween people off meat. Kind of like those aimed at someone addicted to cigarettes. Instead of some nicotine gum, you could chew on a rind of bacon. And rather than a nicotine patch, slap a slice of pepperoni on your arm. Anything that will take your mind of those delicious meals-on-legs.

#81 Visit the Edmonton Corn Maze

Status: Maize maze completed (What? Too corny?)

If you're thinking I'm padding this list out with cool things I've done that weren't particularly challenging or life-altering experiences, you'd be right. Well done. Want a medal?

Last night we headed out to the Edmonton Corn Maze (location: just west of the middle of nowhere) to rummage about in some maize for a couple of hours. As an Australian who grew up in the city, it was a strange experience - but for my Canadian chums who came along, it all seemed a rather normal way to spend a Friday evening.

Here's what the maze looks like this year.  Heck of a crop circle, eh?

We arrived about an hour after sunset, so the atmosphere was suitably creepy. The fright factor was ultimately cranked to 11 after we discovered the place was swarming with teenage twerps whose idea of a good time was to lob ears of corn at each other while screaming obscenities. It's nice to see the young whippersnappers take a break from knifing each other in the city's grimy underbelly, but a cob of corn could honest to God knock you unconscious when hurled sky high. It made things tenser than that crop-dusting scene in North By Northwest.

Anyway, we grabbed two "passports" of varying difficulties consisting of questions that lead you from one point in the maze to another. The difficult one required an absurd knowledge of the Indianapolis 500, while the easy one (alright, it was "for tots") offered up the conundrum of whether corn is grown in outer space. I'm surprised we made it out at all.

#75 Watch Tim Burton's entire filmography

Status: Ashamed at just how far behind I am in updating this list

It's a bit appalling, actually - I've completed quite a few of the tasks on my list, but simply can't be freaked updating this blog. Fortunately, that hasn't been a task in itself yet, so I'm excused.

Anyway, is there a filmmaker more inspired and twisted than Tim Burton? Probably. But I'm a curmudgeonly old filmgoer who's rather stuck in his ways, so Burton will do just fine, thank you. His CV is nearly flawless, so it's always a joy to sit down and watch a film that seems to have been crafted with the sole purpose of terrifying children (a worthy cause if ever there was one).

On my return flight from London (an update on which is forthcoming, I promise), I watched one of Burton's few missteps; the curious Mars Attacks!. It's a movie I really want to like. It has a cast so ridiculously famous it begs for the creation of a letter preceding "A" because the term "A-list" doesn't nearly do it justice: Jack Nicholson (in two roles), Glenn Close, Annette Benning, Sarah Jessica Parker, Pierce Brosnan, Danny DeVito, Martin Short, Michael J. Fox, Natalie Portman, Jack Black, Rod Steiger and Tom Jones (as himself). It's overkill in a film that is already brimming with ideas upon which it never quite capitalises; the only real perk is watching dozens of aliens promising to make friends with mankind before obliterating everybody, seemingly for kicks. They must've learnt from us.

Anyhow, here's my Tim Burton checklist and where it currently stands (oh, and I'm just going with feature films to keep it simple):

• Pee-wee's Big Adventure (1985) - not seen
  
• Beetlejuice (1988) - seen
  
• Batman (1989) - seen
  
• Edward Scissorhands (1990) - seen, resulting in considerable trauma as a child 
  
• Batman Returns (1992) - seen 
  
• Ed Wood (1994) - not seen
  
• Mars Attacks! - seen
  
• Sleepy Hollow (1999) - not seen
  
• Planet Of The Apes (2001) - seen; Burton's only other misstep, as far as I've seen
  
• Big Fish (2003) - not seen
  
• Charlie And The Chocolate Factory (2005) - seen, and revelled in child torture
  
• Corpse Bride (2005) - seen 
  
• Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street (2007) - seen; it convinced me that singing and large amounts of blood go hand in hand
  

Most intriguing of all is Burton's next project - an adaptation of Alice's Adventures In Wonderland - which will hit screens before my deadline for this list. Hooray for sheer wackiness.

#39 Read Alice's Adventures In Wonderland and Through The Looking-Glass And What Alice Found There

Status: I'm late, I'm late, for a very important update!

How can you not adore a book with passages like this?

"I see nobody on the road," said Alice.

"I only wish I had such eyes," the King remarked in a fretful tone. "To be able to see Nobody! And at the distance too! Why, it's as much as I can do to see real people, by this light!"

All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking intently along the road, shading her eyes with one hand. "I see somebody now!" she exclaimed at last. "But he's coming very slowly - and what curious attitudes he goes into!"

(For the Messenger kept skipping up and down, and wriggling like an eel, as he came along, with his great hands spread out like fans on each side.)

"Not at all," said the King. "He's an Anglo-Saxon Messenger -- and those are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when he's happy. His name is Haigha." (He pronounced it so as to rhyme with "mayor".)

"I love my love with an H," Alice couldn't help beginning, "because he is Happy. I hate him with an H, because he is Hideous. I fed him with - with - with Ham-sandwiches and Hay. His name is Haigha, and he lives -"

"He lives on the Hill," the King remarked simply, without the least idea that he was joining in the game, while Alice was still hesitating for the name of a town beginning with H. "The other Messenger's called Hatta. I must have two, you know - to come and go. One to come, and one to go."

"I beg your pardon?" said Alice.

"It isn't respectable to beg," said the King.

"I only meant that I didn't understand," said Alice. "Why one to come and one to go?"

"Don't I tell you?" the King repeated impatiently. "I must have two - to fetch and carry. One to fetch, and one to carry."

At this moment the Messenger arrived: he was far too much out of breath to say a word, and could only wave his hands about, and make the most fearful faces at the poor King.

"This young lady loves you with an H," the King said, introducing Alice in the hope of turning off the Messenger's attention from himself - but it was of no use - the Anglo-Saxon attitudes only got more extraordinary every moment, while the great eyes rolled wildly from side to side.

"You alarm me!" said the King. "I feel faint - Give me a ham-sandwich!"

On which the Messenger, to Alice's great amusement, opened a bag that hung round his neck, and handed a sandwich to the King, who devoured it greedily.

"Another sandwich!" said the King.

"There's nothing but hay left now," the Messenger said, peeping into the bag.

"Hay, then," the King murmured in a faint whisper.

Alice was glad to see that it revived him a good deal. "There's nothing like eating hay when you're faint," he remarked to her, as he munched away.

"I should think throwing cold water over you would be better," Alice suggested: "- or some sal-volatile."

"I didn't say there was nothing better," the King replied. "I said there was nothing like it." Which Alice did not venture to deny.

"Who did you pass on the road?" the King went on, holding out his hand to the Messenger for some hay.

"Nobody," said the Messenger.

"Quite right," said the King: "this young lady saw him too. So of course Nobody walks slower than you."

"I do my best," the Messenger said in a sullen tone. "I'm sure nobody walks much faster than I do!"

"He can't do that," said the King, "or else he'd have been here first."

Terrific stuff.

#78 Try 10 new beers

Status: Forgetful (but not due to alcohol consumption)

Forgot another Vegas beer - and one worth mentioning - in my first update...

5. Bud Light Lime

Origin: America.

Site of consumption: The Treasure Island pool area.

Refreshingly unpretentious description from official website: "Bud Light Lime is a premium light beer that combines the superior drinkability of Bud Light with a splash of 100% natural lime flavor."

Verdict: Refreshing and tangy!

#11 Return to London

Status: London-bound!

After plenty of faffing about, I finally got around to booking my flights to London, despite some highway robbery (flyway robbery?) on the part of Air Canada's fare system.

Nevertheless, it's a mere 10 days until I return to ol' Blighty!  (And 11 days before I'm sucking away at a Magners like a baby with its bottle.)

#78 Try 10 new beers

Status: Not an alcoholic...

...but at this rate, I will be. I just realised this is the third alcohol-related task on this (still incomplete) list. Moreover, it's a new addition and I'm whizzing through the 10 beers.  And I'm not even a big fan of beer! But this list is all about branching out (and procrastinating when there are more important things I should be doing, like booking my flights to London).  Besides, I defy you to find another blog where an entry on beer can immediately follow one on classic literature!

1. Blue Moon Belgian White

Origin: Not actually Belgium (Canada).

Site of consumption: Our Las Vegas hangout, Stripburger.

Pretentious description from official website: "[An] unfiltered style of ale [that] combines malt, wheat and oats giving the Belgian White its signature cloudy appearance and smooth, full-bodied taste."

Verdict: Served with a slice of orange, it's one of the most delicious beers I've ever tried.

2. Pyramid Hefe Weizen

Origin: America.

Site of consumption: Stripburger, again. This was my substitute when they were out of Blue Moon.

Pretentious description from official website: "Brewed by the original Wheat Beer Pioneers, Pyramid Hefe Weizen is left unfiltered for extra flavor and aroma.  Handcrafted with 60% malted wheat (10% more than Bavarian tradition calls for), our award-winning Hefe Weizen is unsurpassed in quality and exceptionally smooth and refreshing for the whole beer experience."

Verdict: Not as good as Blue Moon, but I'd be hard-pressed to disagree with "smooth and refreshing".

3. Innis & Gunn

Origin: Scotland.

Site of consumption: The Twisted Fork diner, essentially my Central Perk.

Pretentious description from official website: "Using oak to age beer is unheard of, but the flavours imparted by the oak barrels (previously used to mature bourbon) lend an incredible depth of taste. Think vanilla, toffee and orange aromas, with a malty, lightly oaked palate; soothing and warm in the finish."

Verdict: Overlook that flowery prose (it's not a bottle of wine, guys!) and this is a delicious beverage.

4. Full Moon Pale Ale

Origin: Brewed right here in Edmonton. 

Site of consumption: The Twisted Fork.

Pretentious description from official website: "The Full Moon is a west-coast style pale ale that is doubled hopped [with Centennial and Cascades] for good measures. The hops gives this ale a nice citrus-like taste to balance out the caramel malts. It indeed is a balanced beast."

Verdict: Sounds lovely, but I thought it was a bit rubbish.  A refreshing reminder that I will never become a fully-fledged beer drinker.

To be continued...

#39 Read Alice's Adventures In Wonderland and Through The Looking-Glass And What Alice Found There

Status: In a child-like state

"I had sent my heroine straight down a rabbit-hole ... without the least idea what was to happen afterwards." — Lewis Carroll

I'll say! A perpetually late White Rabbit, a disappearing cat, a lecturing mouse, a race-organising Dodo, a gardening lizard, a gigantic puppy, a caterpillar who takes insult when people point out his size, Fish- and Frog-Footmen, an ugly Duchess, a Mock Turtle (as opposed to a real one), a Gryphon, a deck of cards come to life (including a Queen of Hearts, obsessed with decapitation) and, of course, a Hatter who is, as you would expect from a tale this ludicrous, mad.

And all that's before Alice passes Through The Looking-Glass! Yep, I've been getting reacquainted with the first of Carroll's two-part tale, a classic for children, on whom Carroll's amazing knack for puns, wit and all-around cleverness must be utterly lost.

Everything about Carroll's writing sparkles and Alice is as well-crafted and imaginative a character as the creatures who populate the world around her.  The Penguin Classics edition, which I'm reading, contains both stories and is packed with a lengthy introduction, annotations, appendices, an essay, the manuscript of Alice's Adventures Under Ground, which became the first of the two stories, and John Tenniel's fantastic illustrations.

It is with nothing but pure excitement that I await Tim Burton's adaptation of this phenomenal book.

#76 Try haggis

Status: Not disgusted

I expected to knock this one on the head when I returned to the UK (#11 for those of you playing along at home), but was offered the opportunity to sample this Scottish cuisine at Fort Edmonton Park's Highland Gathering.

If anyone's culturally ignorant, Wikipedia offers the following list of typical ingredients:

Sheep's 'pluck' (heart, liver and lungs), minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally boiled in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours.

Surprisingly decent.

#28 Buy and read Bill Bryson's A Short History Of Nearly Everything

Status: Learned

Well, I didn't buy it – it was a birthday present from Jackie – but Bill Bryson's brief yet thorough guide to the universe is an extraordinary read.

The subject matter remains suitably intellectual, but Bryson handles it with such deftness and profundity that reading about 13 billion years of history becomes hugely enjoyable – and very funny.

Bryson relates countless mind-blowing facts about the universe, some you would never have considered, and others you'll never be able to fathom.  From the Big Bang and the universe it created...

"In a single pulse, a moment of glory much too swift and expansive for any form of words, the singularity assumes heavenly dimensions, space beyond conception. In the first lively second (a second that many cosmologists will devote entire careers to shaving into ever-finer wafers) is produced gravity and the other forces that govern physics. In less than a minute the universe is a million billion miles across and growing fast. There is heat now, ten billion degrees of it, enough to begin nuclear reactions that create the lighter elements ... In three minutes, 98 percent of all matter there is or ever will be has been produced. We have a universe. It is a place of the most wondrous and gratifying possibility, and beautiful, too. And it was all done in about the time it takes to make a sandwich."

...to the rise of mankind and our ignorance at appreciating such a place...

"We are awfully lucky to be here – and by "we" I mean every living thing. To attain any kind of life in this universe of ours appears to be quite an achievement. As humans we are doubly lucky, of course: We enjoy not only the privilege of existence but also the singular ability to appreciate it and even, in a multitude of ways, to make it better. It is a talent we have only barely begun to grasp. We have arrived at this position of eminence in a stunningly short time. Behaviourally modern human beings – that is, people who can speak and make art and organise complex activities – have existed for only about 0.0001 percent of Earth's history. But surviving even that little while required a nearly endless string of good fortune."

A Short History Of Nearly Everything ultimately opens your eyes to the phenomenal universe around us - and everything in it - and develops a great appreciation for life itself.

#20 Buy a new pair of shoes

Status: The proud owner of a pair of blue Cons

As evidenced by this photo of me standing 191 metres above ground atop the Calgary Tower last weekend.

#41 Find Magners Irish Cider outside of the UK

Status: Inebriated

Not really, but I do love that word.

Anyway, I know I completed this in Australia, but I also managed to find this delicious beverage in Canada!

The problem is, I can only find it at a restaurant called India Grill, which has a huge selection of imported beers.  It also has a range of food so spicy it's like eating a huge bowl of glowing, red embers and washing it down with a nice, soothing glass of magma.

Just as well I had an ice-cold cider to polish it off, then!

#12 Have something published

Status: Published

I originally intended for this to mean an article or some other piece of writing, but I'm pretty chuffed I now get published on a regular basis in the form of advertisements I create for work.

I'll be taking a course on Adobe InDesign next month so I can learn the proper way to put these things together. In the meantime, they're designed rather crudely, but the end result generally works.

Here's the first one I did; it's an ad encouraging best practices for farmers whose fields become muddy in the spring after the six months' worth of snow melts.

For those interested, my current project is a series of ads educating residents on living with urban wildlife (here's a recent one I did on magpies).

#68 Buy a laptop

Status: All Macced out

"I hate Macs. I have always hated Macs. I hate people who use Macs. I even hate people who don't use Macs but sometimes wish they did. Macs are glorified Fisher-Price activity centres for adults; computers for scaredy cats too nervous to learn how proper computers work; computers for people who earnestly believe in feng shui." — Charlie Brooker

The wonderful Charlie Brooker - who, I should point out, is right about everything - once brilliantly slammed Macs and Mac owners.  A year ago, I would have been completely on his side.  But for some reason, something changed.  Or, rather, I needed a change - I don't have the huge issues with PCs and Windows that some people have, but I just felt like something different.

So, a few weeks ago, I found myself myself marching home from West Edmonton Mall with nearly $1,500 of MacBook under my arm. The laptop was a wise investment.  For instance, I'm making this blog post while sprawled out on the couch.  Imagine trying to do that with a desktop computer; hard drive propped up against the couch leg, monitor balanced precariously on one of the couch arms, mouse tucked somewhere down the back with the remote control... it'd be madness!  So a laptop has taken my laziness to uncharted heights. Hooray!

I'm still going through a few teething issues.  As Charlie Brooker wrote, losing a mouse button is like losing an arm.  I still feel that way.  It's a bit tricky to leave two fingers on the touchpad and then click in order to achieve the same function.  Two mouse buttons feels like evolution; one feels like amputation.

And was it only me that kind of enjoyed the little dog who gave you tips in Word?  Yes, the paperclip was pants, but someone else must have liked that doggie?  No?  Just me?  Oh.

Anyway, thrilled with the MacBook, but I wouldn't have been disappointed to have gone down the PC route.  After all, it's the same thing in a shiny new tin (pictured below).

#74 Get a new job... in Canada

Status: Alive... and employed!

Dear readers,

I know, I know, it's been eons since my last update. But given Brady seems to have put his career-building PhD over this frivolous web-based to-do list, I think I can get away with a 40-day absence. Especially as this is due, in most part, to the fact I'm no longer dining on the stale breadcrumbs left lying around my kitchen. That's right: I have a job.

I've been pretty fortunate in landing some excellent jobs in the past, most of which have more or less just fallen into my unemployed lap. This was probably the first time I've had to actively seek out some source of income with which I can afford to buy a new tube of toothpaste to replace the empty one I've been wringing out like a wet towel for the past month.

Hats off to Bodie, who simply walked into the first bar he saw and was offered a job quicker than I could type another lie on my résumé. If only the public relations field was that easy to break into.

Job hunting, I've discovered, requires you to leap through more hoops than an overworked circus performer. That clumsy metaphor may as well be literal, given how ridiculously incomparable the application process is to the position for which you're applying. Once you've managed to pen a curriculum vitae that need only be slightly more credible than, say, The Da Vinci Code, you may be fortunate enough to be called upon for an interrogation interview. This is where it gets ugly.

A proper job interview is a lot like improvisational theatre, in which your character is an infinitely more qualified, urbane and amicable version of yourself.

Before you enter the interview, be sure to check your brain at the door. You won't be needing it. Even if you decide to lug it in with you, it will refuse to function at all. If asked a simple question - let's say, "Can you tell us about your previous position?" - your brain will simply stand (imagine the brain has feet) inside your head, cross its arms (imagine the brain has arms) and say (imagine the brain has a mouth), "Sorry, you're on your own." Occasionally, it will remark something more profound, such as "I wonder who they modelled the 'Don't Walk' man on" or "Perhaps this would have gone better if I inhaled helium immediately before arriving", but that's about the extent of its usefulness.

Unfortunately, the questions are never that simple to begin with. It's usually something absurdly specific like, "Describe a time when your boss came up to you, coated himself in honey and asked you to walk his llama" or "Tell us about a time when you got sucked into the photocopier only to emerge in the land of Oz". At which point, quite bizarrely, the brain kicks into gear and spews forth any old twaddle that might even vaguely answer the question. For instance, in one interview - for a position that strongly involved me working with kids - I claimed I disliked small children (an outright lie) and that I would "discipline" any child who misbehaved (an outright offence).

Though, strangely, the interview I cocked up most of all was actually the position I ended up landing. God help me, though, if I ever have to use the photocopier.

Sincerely,

M.B. Weston
Communications Specialist
Strathcona County

P.S. It's a great job; thanks for asking!

#58 Build a snowman

Status: Mourning

It is my very sad duty to report the untimely passing of Oscar the Snowman. He was found decapitated early Monday morning.

Oscar lived a fulfilling life, which was tragically cut short this week. Well loved among humans and bunnies alike, Oscar braved sub-zero temperatures in the name of his profession: snowman.

He is survived by a handful of stones and a carrot.

#58 Build a snowman

Status: Snow complete!

A Guide to Building a Snowman
(Australian Edition)

Step 1: Find snow. Contrary to popular (Jackie's) belief, this does exist in Australia. Next, roll the snow into balls too large to lift, push or move anywhere.

Step 2: In spite of Step 1, place slightly smaller ball on top of slightly larger ball, ensuring your estimates of "smaller" and "larger" are accurate (as not shown below).

Step 3: Salvage snowman.

Step 4: Find a head. If a human one is not readily available, a head made of snow will suffice.

Step 5: Place stones on snowman for eyes, mouth and buttons, sticks for arms and beanie for warmth. Oh, and you should have bought a carrot for the nose earlier. Probably should have mentioned that at the start.

Step 6: Add a fashionable scarf and the illusion is complete!

Step 7: Love your snowman. And name him Oscar (or, if you desire, something else entirely).

Step 8: Take a photograph of a bunny rabbit (optional).

#35 Complete 10 random acts of kindness

Status: Exceedingly helpful

On my ultimately (partly) disappointing trip to Calgary (I didn't get the job, for those of you left in suspense by my previous post), I did get to take the exceptionally classy Red Arrow bus there and back (all expenses paid).

I've been in airplanes that were less comfortable than this bus-cum-limousine; leather seats, free drinks and snacks, wireless Internet (I know I don't have a laptop, but I could at least check out the pretentious PowerPoint slideshow being crafted by the toffee-nosed businessman sitting in front of me).

Anyway, the little old lady beside me fetched herself a bottled water from the galley, before coming back and explaining to me that she broke her wrist last year and was straining to open it. Word of my superhero-like desire to help those around me must have reached this poor, defenceless woman, for she asked me to open it for her.

This task marks the halfway point in this challenge, and, having settled into Canada, where everyone seems to be so friendly it's borderline pushy (in a good way), I've decided to up the ante for the remaining five tasks. Case in point: the other day, a lady held the door open for me. "Fine," I hear you say. But I was about 20 metres away! I could have entered a number of doorways before reaching her. Don't Canadians know anything about polite distances?

#73 Visit five major Canadian cities

Status: Four left! Actually, no. I left one. Calgary. Pardon the initial mixed metaphor.

Canada is a big country. Like, freaking huge. The walk to my local supermarket, for instance, is seven blocks. Talk about a trek! At least, it seems like it when you're lugging a week's worth of groceries.

Still, as exotic as Safeway is (the cereal aisle is a particular highlight - would you believe Rice Bubbles are known here as Rice Krispies?), I figure it would be best to explore a bit more of the Great White North while I'm here.

A recent job interview took me a few hours south to Calgary, where, I took the time to explore the city (well, three streets of it). While not the capital of Alberta, it has a larger population and more corporate kind of feel than Edmonton.

After wandering up Stephen Avenue, Calgary's main shopping precinct, I took in some true Albertan history at the Glenbow Museum, home to plenty of true western history (and a surprising change from all those coliseums and churches that Europe threw my way) .

A trip to Calgary would not be complete without a trip up the famous Calgary Tower. The observation deck gives some spectacular views of the city, including a jaw-dropping peek directly beneath you through the deck's glass floor. Yet the scariest thing was the price of postcards in the gift shop.

#35 Complete 10 random acts of kindness

Status: Three down, seven to go

Picked up a double whammy yesterday.

First, while drinking a delicious Second Cup Butter Pecan Latté (hold the pretension), I noticed a man in a wheelchair dropped what appeared to be some sort of back scratcher. Ever the kindhearted chap, I scooped it up and with a tip of my top hat, returned it to its rightful owner.

After leaving there, we headed to Safeway, our local supermarket, where, in the cereals aisle, a little old lady told me how "nice and tall" I was. After thanking her and pointing out how "nice and short" she was (not really), she asked if I could be so kind as to reach up and grab her a pack of oats.

Unfortunately, Bodie was present on both occassions, so I can't embellish either event. And I promise, this will be the last get-something-from-a-tall-shelf-for-someone act of kindness for this task.

#27 Buy a new mobile phone

Status: More frustrated than that time I saw Bodie laugh at the Meet The Spartans trailer

New from Samsung - the sleek, sexy, seriously infuriating M300. For an exorbitant amount, you can snap up this cellular swiz, complete with a host of utterly dissatisfying features:

• pre-emptive SMS feature that completely freezes your phone, effectively pre-empting you from typing anything
• smooth, stylish fonts evocative of those featured in '80s era arcade games
• gaudy yellow interface (the technical colour may be "melted butter")
• a large selection of ear-piercing ringtones, not recommended for use near large panes of glass
• 7 pixel camera (not to be confused with a 7 megapixel camera) that presumably captures your soul as it captures your dim, blurry image
• available in 13,728,405 different pricing structures, each more confusing than the one before it (and paradoxically, the final pricing structure is more mind-boggling than the first one)

It does have one redeeming feature: a three-inch armour coating, capable of resisting even the most severe of knocks. It even survived a tumble down an ascending escalator, a fall which, theoretically, could have lasted for ever.

#66 See the Northern Lights

Status: Nevermind

Despite, a possible faint sighting on my final night in Flin Flon, this task remains incomplete.

I did, however, recently see The Golden Compass, an adaptation of Philip Pullman's Northern Lights. Does that count? No? Wasn't even worth trying, was it?

#69 Try eggnog

Status: I came, I poured, I got stonkered

Well, not really. But the rum sure does take the edge of what is essentially, er, egg in a glass.

Surprisingly delicious.

#18 Find accommodation in Canada

Status: Sheltered

Having confirmed on Christmas day that Bodie and I had a Canadian home (how's that for a present!), we both moved in last week.

Just off-campus, the house is walking distance to Jackie's place, the University transit centre and Whyte Avenue. The only downside is it is the most static electricity-charged place on Earth.

(For those who to flood me with gifts, my new address is on Facebook.)

#70 Ride a snowmobile

Status: On ice

After various flight/luggage/visa dramas, I made it to Canada safe and sound.

Within two days, courtesy of some friends of Jackie's mother, I was careening about on a frozen lake on a snowmobile. Looks like I know what I'm doing, huh?

I was initially taken for a ride as a passenger, when the snowmobile broke down a couple of hundred metres from our base. After walking back (snow is surprisingly arduous to walk through, despite the fact I've probably said the same thing about grass or, er, carpet), we set off again, with much better luck. And soon enough, against all odds and licencing laws, I was off on my own.

Zooming along at 40 miles per hour, in -15°C temperature (-32°C with wind chill), wearing every single item of clothing I own, I somehow managed to survive! Who'da thunk it?