Ugh. I fully intended to write this post last night after having run home from work so that I could brag to you all about such! the great! start! I have on my latest! and awesomest! resolution... 1000KM OF RUNNING IN 2010!! [insert crowd applauding and cheering enthusiastically HERE!!] It is a resolution I put toward my "ten for '10"
Those who know me would almost certainly agree that the "Ottawa Diva" nom de plume is perhaps less apt a handle than oh, say "Ottawa Obsessive-compulsive-who-makes-lists-listing-the-lists-she-needs-to-make" might be. A Planny Plannerson, or killjoy, if you will. Case in point: Not once in the six years since I moved to Ontario have I ever
Every so often, I google myself to make sure I'm aware of all the trash-talkin' smackdown happenin' 'bout me. Thankfully, it's only usually Mr. Diva who litters lies about me on Facebook and whatnot. For example? I DID NOT eat 3/4ths of a pumpkin pie this weekend, thankyouverymuch. It was, like, mayyyybe 7/8ths, which we all know is WAY FARTHER
Three years ago, after the birth of Thing One, I started running. The first few bouts came courtesy of Jules, Ottawa trainer extraordinaire at the Strollercize sessions hosted by the Bank Street Boomerang Kids. My good friend H and I would haul our post-partum asses over to the canal two or three mornings a week to commiserate with 25
How's this for my new business card? Ottawa Diva: On the cutting edge of cool. Since July 11, 2009. Because that was the date the girls and I went to see the Slaughter Daughters give it to the Thames Fatales. No, this is not porn; it's roller derby. (Though some of those outfits look like they could have come from the closet of one Miss
Our mortgage is up for renewal in September. This means we have lived in Ottawa for five years, people - FIVE YEARS! - not counting the few, glorious months we played Centretown yuppies living on the edge of China Town, stumbling home through the Crack Park after a late night out drinking seven(teen) beer on Elgin. Funnily enough, I am less
The point of this blog is to cajole me out of my 1,100-square-foot semi-detached oasis and into the cold, mean streets of the nation's capital. And so, with that in mind, I set out this past Sunday intent on exploring the city with the eye of a tourist. First stop? Parliament Hill and the ByWard Market. Mais oui. This past May marked five
Ottawa Diva is my sixth blog in just over three years. I'm amazed I've kept any regular readers throughout the various incarnations of the wordy side of myself, fickle font schizo I am. Yet I'm glad I have, even though I oscillate on a daily basis between calling it quits or changing all of my privacy settings to "activated", and calling A-Channel
Ottawa Diva is a spoiled bitch. The idea for this website came to her during a three-month stint in Paris in 2009. She put down her Grand Marnier and Nutella crêpe only long enough to ask, "Why don't I love Ottawa like I love Paris?" And then she kept eating. The answer, she thought, was all about attitude. Paris has it; Ottawa... well... not
