Monday, July 31, 2006

Poetry by Dythandra

Your Fall from Grace

You're staying for the summer,
My favorite cousin
Part of the parentals' plan
To "restore" me.

You seemed... more complex, before.

Now there's the hour of painting, filing, curling
Each morning, with pit stops throughout the day.

While we used to bond,
Now there's uncomfortable silence.

You meet the boy who runs the outdoor camps.
Seems his assistant backed out--he's desperate for help.
You talk about him to your friends back home
You don't know about my silent extension.

I also hear your laughs
At the expense of your "pathetic little wannabe vampire" cousin.

I don't complain when you propose to leave
All comforts of home shed for a month
While you help 10 year olds paddle a kayak.

Too bad you're careless.
Should've hidden that myspace password more
When you typed it five times a day.
Should've looked over to my window
When you got friendly down on the porch
With Mr. Wilderness.

Does he know about the boy back home?

My mother looks at me sadly.
Her hopes dashed, and fearing my summer
Somehow ruined.

I smile bravely, and retreat to my room.
It's a gradual process, this destruction.

I find I enjoy being electronic you:

You're rude to your friends when you comment
Your blog details new friends and their chemicals
You ask your boy back home for more space
And Paris-like, you post the nightvision shots
Of your cozy times on the veranda.

Of course, the phone calls from worried or angry friends
Find only voicemail--
No phones or computers allowed
In Camp Wannagebizzee

It's a good month;
You return suntanned and smiling.
I hope camp boy has the internet
You're going to have lots of free time
When you get home.

Friday, July 21, 2006

too hot

It was 90 at 8 tonight--bleah. We had left the house closed up while we were all out most of the day, so it was probably 100 inside.

Plus I was cruising around town in a little tin bucket w/out air while mine was in for maintenance.

There--whining done.

Item for consideration--while in Qualicum, we noticed a hospice there named "Valhalla". Anyone else think that's in questionable taste?

Had lunch w/ Alix today. I feel sorry for anyone who works in a restaurant kitchen in the summer (which she does). Tonight we were at my in-laws and rather than cook we decided to go to KFC where, unfortunately for the employees, there's no air conditioning. It must've been hellish in the kitchen, because it was disgustingly hot out by the counter, and they couldn't manage to keep up with the orders--a bunch of people got cranky and took refunds and left.

Up the Fraser Canyon--maybe two hours inland from Vancouver, it was 42 today--a bit over 107.

I recall as a kid we went on holidays through that area in a car without air conditioning, and camped in a tent. I don't think we could manage that with my family without killing each other.

I know that folks down south are mocking our wimpiness now. Wait for global warming, my friends. You'll want real estate up here, I bet.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Poetry by Dythandra

My Summer Vacation

The parentals insist, each year
Upon a family bonding time.
Camping was a disaster--Fire, lanterns,
Pointed marshmellow sticks...
And my imagination.

Though I did enjoy the bats
Who joined me each night to play.

Something different this year--a surprise
They promise. I despise surprises
Unless they're of my design.

I fear their bland conformity,
And brace myself for Yellowstone.
But the plane takes us to San Jose--
The Bay Area.
I almost smile--San Francisco has its perks.

But then the hammer falls,
A rental car, and down the coast we go.
Anaheim our destination.

But not before we stop the SUV and add
My Aunt and her annoyingly tanned
California kids.

Poor Aunty Jan--all alone, with those two
How does she ever manage
On the court ordered half mil a year
Her financier ex must pay.

Her spawn are first smug and superior
I have no precancerous coloring,
So they feel me unworthy of their company.

This suits me, until the son--my cousin, Daniel
(I remember him from the Dan and Danny incarnations)
Decides to find me exotic, or perhaps dangerous.
And his tiresome pursuit begins.

All manner of discouragement fails to dissuade
Even my intimation that his sister is more to my...
Well, suffice to say, it just increased his ardor.

At the mecca of the rodent's empire,
I relent enough to sample the rides
The Tower of Terror holds few for me
And the roller coaster is tame,
Though my Aunt loses her filet mignon.

I give my suitor a hint of encouragement.
"We'll ride the Small World together"
His eyes light up. He runs away with me
As I shake away his attempt to hold my hand.

We see an opportunity--it's early, and we manage
To get a boat to ourself.

Inside, I know exactly what to do
(I reconnoitered the day before)
At the right moment, we climb out
And sneak behind some horrible stereotypes
Of Africa's children.

I pull out the handcuffs I managed to sneak in
And his eyes light up.

Later, the park security is eventually told
About the young man behind the animatronic
Natives.

Seemed no one heard him for hours
Over that shrill song.
I whistle it all the way back
To San Francisco.

My parents agree that next year
The two of them are taking a cruise.


Wednesday, July 05, 2006

July 5--

On this date, 15 years ago, I was contemplating my last day of singleness.

On the whole, it's been an amazing and very quick 15 years. I am very lucky. If only my wife had known what she was getting herself into...

Off we go to celebrate for a couple days and take in a play along the way. Back in a few days, folks. Hope you're all enjoying the summer.

(Oh, and Ella IS still alive--we chatted yesterday (actually Monday--since it's after midnight now) and I was reassured as to her continued existence.)

Oh, and we had a 3.7 earthquake here today--but I was driving at the time and so heard about it from my family when I got home. The joys of living on a fault line...

Monday, July 03, 2006

I kind of like this one






What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?




You will sink in a mire. You like to think you're normal, but deep down you really just want to strip off your clothes and roll around in chicken fat.
Take this quiz!



The ADD Movie Usher Reviews

Mr and Mrs. Smith

Yeah this movie's believable. Just like all the James Bond movies and every other one that would have you believe that expert shooters can magically miss people who happen to be main characters in the show. Kind of like the fact they don't notice that each other are assassins even though they're trained to notice all these tiny details.

Or like how every fat guy gets the hot girl in movies like Hitch or all those sitcoms with the Jim Belushi-type guy who has the hot wife.

Still, at least Brad and Angelina are both more a match like that. But her lips--yeah right they're not enhanced. I mean, you can practically see the little air valve thing to pump them up between shots.

And Vince Vaughn? So did Brad Pitt take him aside during the breaks and say "Hey, go date my ex-wife would ya?" or what? Weird. Kind of like how all the people in the concession date all the other people in the concession. But somehow the ushers, well, we're good enough for the janitors but somehow those concession snots are all "We're bondable--we can handle cash".

And what's with their uniforms--I mean, they get those really nice black vests and we have those stupid green blazers, and we have to do ALL the garbage at the end of the night... oh yeah.

So, uhm, 3 out of 5 for Mr. and Mrs. Smith. I wonder if anyone asked her what she did with Billy Bob's blood vial after they broke up? Probably some evil mojo goin' on there...