#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.