Thoughts on the Eve of Canada Day

In a few hours my trusty companion, L, and I shall embark upon a great journey to the Canadian land of milk and honey (Albertastan). We are taking part in a celebration the locals call: [Can-AAA-da D-AAA-y] Canada Day.

As this fledgling nation celebrates its autonomy.... no, that's wrong...it's independence...ummm...no. Hmmm, how to word it?

As this fledgling nation celebrates its identity...

GOD, this is difficult.

Okay, okay, I've got it now. Here goes:

As this fledgling nation celebrates itself, I can't help but think of the celebrations that will take place only a few hundred miles south during the same week.

There's something odd about being an American in Canada. Although we are neighboring tribes, with a great many things in common, we are very different nations. And although one is frequently painted as the evil twin -- who you thought was in Omaha, but really she's been hereposing as you: dating your boyfriend and even taking part in surgeries when you were absent (okay, too much General Hospital for me)--really, neither of the two nations is all it's cracked up to be.

It's like both Canada and the US are adolescents who've latched on to a skater clique (or the Debate team...whatever clique you most identify with), but can't possibly pull it off all the time, because no matter how cool you look in your skater shorts and with your dyed hair, you still have to go to the store with mum sometimes to pick up some milk.

So what I'm getting at is this: boo one country this century, you'll boo another in the next. Nothing really ever changes, someone is always going to be the "bad guy," someone is going to be the self-righteous prick, and someone is going to be the goody-goody who whores it up on weekends.

So, on this the eve of my Canada Day extravaganza (which I'm very excited about, for the record--I've even learned the national anthem!) I say to my fellow loud Americans:

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Violated by a Worm

--This one goes out to my dear friend Ivia in D.C.

I nearly died today.

I was on my way home from Old Navy (it's like crack...but on sale) when I saw something long and green out of the corner of my eye. While driving 60km/hr, I craned my neck to see what it could be; to my horror I discovered it was one of those disgusting worms that slink down from trees around this time of year. I tried to watch the road, but something instinctual, but terribly misguided, in me seemed to insist that the worm was a much greater threat than other vehicles. So I watched the worm make its descent from the top of my driver's side window and onto my blouse.

I cringed. It was bloody awful. My brain was flooded by scenes from movies: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom--the blond girl wanders into a tunnel that is populated entirely by giant insects; King Kong (the recent and terrible)--the blond girl has to choose between getting felt up by large insects or be eaten by a dinosaur...for some reason she chooses the insects.

My breathing became labored--I could not hold back a terrified squeal, which might have been a less embarrassing, but a more unwarranted, scream if I didn't exert a bit of self-control. But, finally I saw a side street, which I quickly turned down. I found an out of the way spot, pulled on the e-brake, released the seatbelt, flung the door open, and stepped carefully (yet hastily, lemme tell ya!) out of the car. I didn't want to smush the creature onto myself...or anger it in any way.

Having established it's exact location on my garment, I proceeded to execute the Ridoworm Manouever--which is a fancy name for shaking shirts and flicking fingers.

The worm was dispatched.

I returned to my vehicle and drove away, but I still feel like something might be crawling on me.

Will that feeling ever subside?

Why I liked X-Men: The Last Stand

How long has it been, O reader?

Too long.

Nothing much has happened, really. We went to see X-Men. The film was good (as in fun, not as in a work of astonishing genius that will be remembered long after we're all living on lunar colonies in search of unpoluted soil in which to plant our crops. Sigh. Been watching too much news!) But the hilarious portion of our X-Men adventure was that L, after two years in SK, still hasn't learned that you can cross the city in ten minutes. Well, I'll tell you the story.

See, we had a coupon for a free movie at the theater on Pacific Ave. We had it for months, and for months we waited to use it on the X-Men movie. One day, we realized the movie was out and our fair coupon winked from its position on our fridge door and we were gone in a flash. Halfway across the Broadway bridge, L realized he'd forgotten his glasses. Rather than spend the movie interpreting details for L's blurry vision, I declared that we should turn around and get his glasses. But--here's the crux--it was ten minutes to the purported start time of the movie. L was adamant that we would not make it. I, on the other hand, was sure that this miniscule city could be traversed several times in ten minutes. So we went back. L ran up the stairs, fetched his lenses and returned.

He was more than a bit stressed out.

But I assured him that we'd be fine. "There's ten minutes of previews, don't worry!"

Still, he sped down the abandoned downtown streets, whipped into the mall parking lot (no meters were available), took his ticket from the machine, and practically J-turned into a spot. He grabbed the ticket and shoved it into the space between the dash and the vent, the usual place of honor for such things. But this time, the ticket went INTO the vent.

I laughed.


He ripped the vent out of the dash, recovered the ticket and then sprinted toward the theater...all the while muttering about how late we were.

The kids that sell the tickets saw us running, and since we don't do it that often we must have looked especially ridiculous. But we arrived at the ticket booth and asked how far into the movie we were:

"Umm, it's like still in previews," the minimum-wager replied.

And so it was. We sat through ten entire minutes of previews.

Needless to say, I gloated throughout the entire movie. Which is, maybe, just maybe, why I liked it so much.