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Diane the Wild Wanderer

It's a small world. Live large.

Diane's blog

Welcome to the mental and physical voyages of Diane Wild. 

A not-a-bucket of colour-blind monkeys

A not-a-bucket of colour-blind monkeys

I chose early on not to mark the anniversary of my brother’s death. I instead wanted to have my private little ritual on a day celebrating his life: his birthday on April 8. It’s a ritual that involves cake and not much else. I’m not big on ritual. I am big on cake. I...

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100 days of nothing

100 days of nothing

I think of my recent move from Vancouver to a smaller but -- in my eyes -- better condo in Port Moody as an upgrade. Space conscious people would not agree. The me of six years ago, determined to have a Vancouver address and extra bedroom, would not agree. But the...

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Everything comes down to Anne of Green Gables

Adapted from our recent He Said/She Said on TV, eh? The Anne of Green Gables/Anne of Avonlea mini-series were the first Canadian productions to truly excite me as Canadian productions. Books I had loved, had literally read to death (the books’ death, not mine), were...

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Flexing the civil discourse muscle

I don’t know why this 2008 bodybuilding forum thread suddenly started circulating on Twitter the other day, but I’m so happy it did when I needed a laugh (though, warning: offensive insults throughout). I'm crying RT @ramit This is the best thread on the internet. 2...

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This Was My Year That Was

My online life, like most people's, is an edited version of reality. Not in a conscious attempt to make myself appear in a certain way, but because some stories aren't mine to tell and I generally don't use social media as therapy. I feel like in a world where...

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The annual not-a-ritual post

The annual not-a-ritual post

Two years. I still struggle with whether I want to mark the anniversary of Steve's death because the date itself -- the first day of fall, the changing of a season -- is not something I want to have power over me. I don't like ritual for the sake of ritual. As Steve...

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My other car is a train

I got my drivers licence at 27. Bought my first (and only) car at 33. It's safe to say I'm not a car person, though I think my little blue Toyota Echo hatchback is cute and pragmatic, and am quite fond of reliable Azulito in an anthropomorphized way.  He even doubled...

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My own personal zombie story: TV, eh? comes back to life

I've had a couple of conversations lately about the value of blogging, which is kind of hilarious given how little of it I've done lately. I just told a recent graduate in an information interview that blogging was a great way to hone her writing, explore what she's...

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We Have Liftoff: Watching the Earth Breathe from Space

We Have Liftoff: Watching the Earth Breathe from Space

T-46 seconds. We could hear the anticipation in the voices crackling over the loudspeaker broadcasting from the control room: a calm voice with its rapid-fire listing of each system, and before the last syllable ended a new eager voice would chime in with “go”. All...

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