Canada, eh?

Seriously, can you think of a more trite title than that? What can I say? This monologue will have dippings into Canada Day. Having Canada in the title isn't that bad, is it? Meh.

For those of you who don't know, Canada Day is the Canadian version of July 4, Independence Day as the American calendars call it. Canada Day is much the same thing. It is the nation's national (something here seems redundant) holiday. Celebrating....well something. Unlike the States, which actually have something worth commemorating, the final defeat of the British, the signing of that big piece of paper from Nation Treasure, or something like that, Canada to my knowledge doesn't have anything worth celebrating. I guess theoretically there is that whole "Birth of Nation" thing, but its so hard to make a national holiday meaningful when the nation was created bloodlessly (more or less)........



Hmmm, well I was going to go on and on about how lousy Canada Day is. But that's rather negative sounding, and I do have problems with being overly negative sometimes. So, lets move on to something more positive.


Moon bagels! Now there's something that gets us all smiling. When I started this blog, it was with a bit of a plan to report on my progress on the hunt. Lets see, I started this (checks) last Friday. Dang, this only makes four posts in six days. Well I guess updated daily is something to strive for. Anyway, since Friday, the only moon bagel sighting I had was on Saturday at my sister graduation. The very fact that it was my sister's almost eliminates the possibility of a moon bagel; me and her having a somewhat strained relationship. Let us hope we can overcome any difficulties, since I will be living with her in a month or two.

So yeah, the grad went pretty well, and was followed by a dance. I do not dance. Mostly by choice, as I just lack the confidence and bravery to do it, but also a bit by circumstances. I believe I am tone deaf. I might not be, but I do know that I can't pick out a beat in song. Or if I can, I can't move to it. And yet, I would dearly like to be able to dance. If I could but overcome my fear and get out and do it (assuming a girl magically sensed my desire, as the whole prospect of asking one is a whole other issue), I imagine I would have fun. Perhaps if I acquired a new set of friends that know nothing of me, perhaps I might be able to. Anyway, so here I am at a dance, just sitting and talking with such people as I could find. Always in the back of my mind is the desire to be out on the floor, and that I believe is where the moon bagel was hiding. I think if I could have got out and danced the night away, I might have caught it. Alas though, my fear was too great a thing to overcome. Them moon bagels are smart things. They sure know how to pick a good hiding place, and you can bet that if I ever do dance, the bagel will be elsewhere.

The glance was fleeting, as I was quickly enveloped by concerns about the after-dance party. Still, good to know moon bagels are out there, waiting for the right brave and brilliant person to find them.


The fireworks weren't so bad either.