Rideau Canal Flows Again

They've transformed the Rideau Canal Skateway into its summer cousin: a gorgeous waterway that winds through downtown Ottawa. After draining it for the winter, they finally filled it back up and I love it. Coming back from an evening with friends, I drove up Queen Elizabeth Drive at 1:00am and caught a glimpse of the Bank Street bridge that crosses the canal, its structural arches uplit, reflected in the still water. I wish I had a picture. It was breathtaking.

One Of Those Weeks

I'm having "one of those weeks". You know the kind. It's the same as "one of those days", but longer.

Warning: The following is a series of events listed as a venting exercise. No solution or validation is sought. The author realizes on a rational level that in the grand scheme of things, things are good. She just needs to vent in a total moment of self-absorption.

1. Late last week, a series of emotional triggers sets in, sending me into hefty mood swings for the past several days. Up. Down. Up. Down.
2. Wake up last Saturday with trouble breathing. Figure it's the many dust bunnies floating around (see previous post on dust) so I spend a few hours vacuuming the place. It's not dust. It's a cold. Shit.
3. Call in sick Tuesday morning but feel good enough to go to work at noon. Dress up, feel normal, get to work, feel crappy again. Hop back in the car & drive home. Spend the next few days cooped up in the apartment. Thank lucky stars for emails, MSN and movies for a little escape.
4. Today was a planned day off to get my hair coloured, my pick-me-up colour for my first summer downtown. Usual hairdresser isn't there, someone else does it. It looks nothing like I expected and I hate the way she styled it. Swear up a blue streak all the way home. Still feeling crappy from the head cold.
5. Once home, as I'm swearing, I catch my hand on the bathroom door. Get a big sliver deep under my pinky nail. Continue swearing. Try to get sliver out with a needle. Not a good combination with the swearing. Need to walk over to the pharmacy for tweezers & rubbing alcohol, meanwhile getting paranoid that the splinter still in there will suddenly explode into some sort of gross infection.
6. Get back home, experience another emotional trigger, bawl, take a nap.
7. Wake up, have chicken soup, calmly take last bit of splinter out of my pinky.
8. Turn on TV & rabbit ears. Sens are winning. Things are picking up.

It was just one of those weeks ...

Urban Living Checkpoint: Week 14 (Almost)

The other day it struck me how I've already become accustomed to some of the new sounds that surround me in the city. I started making a mental list; these are just a few I've noted, some pleasant, some not so much:

• sirens of all kinds
• laughter from the pre and post-bar folks
• car alarms
• obscenities from the post-bar folks (these ones still creep me out when I sense anger or aggression - I'm always afraid someone might be in danger)
• buses
• house sparrows at my window
• people asking for spare change
• motorcycles
• bicycle bells
• people with headphones singing to themselves
• neighbours getting it on in another apartment
• music blaring out of car windows - mostly bass
• voices and laughter on a café terrace

These are just a few of the sounds I've come to associate with my urban living experience. I expect there'll be more to come once summer sets in and the windows are flung open. What kind of sounds do you hear in your neighbourhood?

Another Musical Pick-Me-Upper

My plans to string steel wool on my rabbit ears and watch the Habs game tonight got pre-empted by a last minute invitation to see this at the National Arts Centre. Beautiful music. Beautiful bodies. Beautiful moves. Another pick-me-upper on a blue, rainy day.

Music To My Ears

I found a new pick-me-up CD: Charles Mingus' Mingus Ah Um.

In a February post I described my experience at a local Impressions in Jazz concert, how the sounds of jazz that night sometimes lulled me into relaxation, or engulfed me into their rhythmic chaos. The musicians performed a few songs by composer Charles Mingus that caught my fancy. I'd never heard of him, but made a mental note of exploring some of his music. Thanks to a birthday gift certificate received from a friend, I picked up one of his CDs. I love it. On a blue rainy day, it's music to my ears.

Rabbit Ears & Ron MacLean

Maybe it was the spirit of the upcoming hockey playoffs that got me, or maybe it was the spirit of the Easter Bunny, but I finally took out my rabbit ears and hooked them up to the TV (for those who don't know, I've gone cable-less since my move). If I open the window, lean the antennas against the frame and turn on the built-in amplifier with the funky blue light, I get a pretty good picture on CBC. If I fiddle around a bit, I get CTV and a few other channels too. Success!

I spent Saturday evening reading the paper with the TV on just to hear that comforting Hockey Night In Canada ramble in the background. I realized that I'd really missed hockey. I was excited to see Ron MacLean; I was even happy to see Don Cherry! And now, thanks to the bunny ears with the funky blue light, I get to watch the playoffs. Cool.

Urban Awakenings

I've been in and out of a dark funk for the past several weeks, hence my lack of posts here. I haven't been oblivious to the arrival of spring though, the city seems to be coming alive. Despite some pretty dark days, I've managed to take in some of the urban happenings around me. These are just a few things I've noticed during the past few weeks that have made me smile ...

• folks walking around with headphones, rapping out loud with their eyes closed - such freedom!
• a horse pulling a bright yellow buggy clippety-clopping down a busy street on a Saturday afternoon, stopping for a rest in front of the Hava Java
• an eclectic mix of people walking downtown streets: all ages, colours, shapes & styles
• folks sitting on park benches or under trees, reading, resting, enjoying the sun
• the boisterous energy of the bar crowd at 2:30 am after closing - stumbling drunks, hopeful guys & gals trying to connect, others just giddy after a fun night out
• the smooth purr of motorcycle engines - sport bikes, to be more specific - that makes me want to pull out my leathers and ride!

During these sometimes difficult times, I'm very thankful for the awakening happening around me. One of the perks of living here is that there's almost always something going on. It's up to me to decide if I want to be a part of it, whether I'm fully participating or simply observing quietly from my favourite café.

Work That Pole

I'm not a gym person. When it comes to exercise, I've discovered that I have to find something fun that'll get me moving, or I'll just stay put. In the past few years, I've branched out into the likes of Yoga Latte, Jazz and African dance. In the spirit of expanding my horizons a little further, I found another activity that, based on tonight's first class, promises to help me build confidence, flexibility, and maybe even an upper body: pole dancing. Ladies, it's fun, it's a serious workout and it's sexy!

At the beginning of the class, most of us were giggling nervously, not really knowing what to expect. Surprisingly, pole dancing isn't all about the pole - there's a lot of floor work involved. A hip roll here, a back arch there ... About halfway through the class, most of us were grinning ear to ear, working our butts off (literally) and having a blast.

The best part is, I'm taking it with a friend so I get to share the experience with her. So ladies, if you're looking for something sassy, something different, something fun, grab a friend and work that pole!

The Phoenix: Ashes and Hope

The phoenix must turn into ashes before it can rise again. This symbol of death and rebirth haunts me today. Turning to ashes can happen quickly, by suddenly bursting into flame and drifting to the ground into a pile of white dust. Or, sometimes it can be a slow, smouldering burn that leads to a weakening of the whole until it crumbles, without fanfare, to a heap on the ground. The key thing to remember: the phoenix always rises again.

Uma Rocks Again

I just finished watching Kill Bill: Vol. 2. Although Uma still rocks, I think I preferred Vol. 1; maybe it was the motorcycles. For me to even comment on this is pretty good, considering I never thought in a million years I'd watch either. :)

Dust

"The lint of heroes, the powder of saints, the remnants of stars, grit of meteors. To the Bohemian, dust is a cosmic confectioner's sugar, softly coating all objects and surfaces in myopic finery. ... The Bohemian understands the historic, poetic and melancholy nature of dust. To the Bohemian, dust is powder from the wings of moths, ash of Vesuvius, cremains of Joan of Arc, atomic fallout, debris of bombed Berlin, soot brushed from the boots of blue-eyed, black-lunged pubescent chimneysweeps in the nineteenth-century London. ... Dusting is, for the Bohemian, counterproductive, a thief of time."

- from Bohemian Manifesto, A Field Guide To Living On The Edge

I always knew I was a Bohemian at heart.

Spring Fever

It's been a while since my last post; that's probably because I've been too busy catching spring fever this past week. Every year I go through this: the new clothes, the newfound energy, the urge to have fun. This year it's the same, but in entirely new circumstances that allow me to explore a little and discover a new part of the city, a new part of myself.

Living downtown exposes me to a whole different environment coming out of its winter. Instead of people putting away the snow blowers and having garage sales, people are trading in their parkas for the latest trends in spring attire, sipping lattes on a terrace, strutting their stuff. I tell ya, this city is stylin' in the spring. It's hard on a girl's pocketbook!

They're calling for a return to normal, cooler weather this coming week - the perfect few days to recup and gather up energy for nicer weather to come. The perfect time to help pace the release of an intoxicating spring fever that seems like it's just itching to come out.