Diane the Wild Wanderer
It's a small world. Live large.
Cramming in Kauai
“Oh shit!” I heard the words and so never did see the wave that inspired them. When your raft captain yells an expletive, you know to hang tight to the rope and duck your head. You also know the heightened sense of adventure is what you paid for, so no panic...
I don’t care if you like my tattoo
When I was young I would wait until it was unavoidable to admit my dad was dead. I wouldn’t correct the plural on “parents” but if someone asked directly about my father, well, I wasn’t about to lie, evade, or reenact the Monty Python parrot sketch. I didn’t avoid...
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...
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...
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...
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...
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...
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...
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...