"You can always go, downtown."
1:59 PM |
School's done and now work's done and all the loose Ottawa ends around me are tying up. I have 2 months and change in this awesome crazy city and I'm nostalgic. Here are some thing I'll miss:
1. Spring time lunches al fresco on Sparks Street picking out the Todd's and the MPs. (The Todd's for those of you that aren't me and my father who invented the term, are the assistant deputy ministers. You can tell a Todd by their slicked back haircut, high-end suits, Bluetooth phone ear thing and former ballet-dancer light step. Many are named Todd, we have found.)
2. Canada Day in the Capital, which equates to beer bottles and cans everywhere, flags decorating everything, random outbursts of the national anthem, wearing red-and-white clothing that on any other day would look atrocious, crammed concerts on the Hill, never getting into the club, fireworks, and cops whose cheeks I like to drunkenly pinch.
3. Sunday mornings in the market, where everyone comes out for the fresh farmers market, gelato, walks across the St. Patrick street bridge, street music, finding a spot to read gossip mags with my best friends in Majors Hill park, and wearing the minimum SPF sunscreen so I feel like I'm being responsible, but I really want a tan.
4. Getting a story assignment/idea and walking through the doors under the Peace Tower into scrums with the politicians that make the call to get the answer. And having them know my name.
5. Special sister days with my little sister that start with sleeping in, walking to Sugar Mountain for treats, eating ice cream along the way, visiting pet shops to look at weird animals, making necklaces, eat picnics by the water, feeding our bread crusts to the ducks, picking a movie and staying in with our candy treats to watch it.
I'm sure as spring really starts to come out and the calendar counts down until the day when fiance and I move, I will find many more Ottawa ingredients about which to become nostalgic. Maybe the tour boat operators on Mackenzie King and Rideau will become cute and not harassing to me as I know they will become memories. Maybe red, the homeless guy I've so named because of his red hat, will greet me one day with good news that he is happy again.
Oh, Ottawa. They say you never forget your first love.
1. Spring time lunches al fresco on Sparks Street picking out the Todd's and the MPs. (The Todd's for those of you that aren't me and my father who invented the term, are the assistant deputy ministers. You can tell a Todd by their slicked back haircut, high-end suits, Bluetooth phone ear thing and former ballet-dancer light step. Many are named Todd, we have found.)
2. Canada Day in the Capital, which equates to beer bottles and cans everywhere, flags decorating everything, random outbursts of the national anthem, wearing red-and-white clothing that on any other day would look atrocious, crammed concerts on the Hill, never getting into the club, fireworks, and cops whose cheeks I like to drunkenly pinch.
3. Sunday mornings in the market, where everyone comes out for the fresh farmers market, gelato, walks across the St. Patrick street bridge, street music, finding a spot to read gossip mags with my best friends in Majors Hill park, and wearing the minimum SPF sunscreen so I feel like I'm being responsible, but I really want a tan.
4. Getting a story assignment/idea and walking through the doors under the Peace Tower into scrums with the politicians that make the call to get the answer. And having them know my name.
5. Special sister days with my little sister that start with sleeping in, walking to Sugar Mountain for treats, eating ice cream along the way, visiting pet shops to look at weird animals, making necklaces, eat picnics by the water, feeding our bread crusts to the ducks, picking a movie and staying in with our candy treats to watch it.
I'm sure as spring really starts to come out and the calendar counts down until the day when fiance and I move, I will find many more Ottawa ingredients about which to become nostalgic. Maybe the tour boat operators on Mackenzie King and Rideau will become cute and not harassing to me as I know they will become memories. Maybe red, the homeless guy I've so named because of his red hat, will greet me one day with good news that he is happy again.
Oh, Ottawa. They say you never forget your first love.