Got a free evening with nothing to do tonight? Find yourself in or near the Ottawa area? The Shout Sister choir will solve that problem and then some. Their final show of the year happens tonight, and anyone in driving range is invited. If you can get to 2675 Draper Ave for an 8:00 show, tickets cost a whole $15 at the door. Why would you want to? This is a start. Mainstream and older music, with a twist–and a dancing dog. Screw going big or going home. These folks are doing both. Want some? You’ve got the address. Now what’s your excuse?

That sucking sound you may or may not have just heard is what little of Ottawa’s sanity remains quickly finding and utilizing the nearest exit. While on the bus coming back from dealing with a few things, I was privy to the most interesting of sports related discussions. Interesting in that it almost had very little to do with sports and more to do with money. Fists full of money. We’ve all been fooled, if you’re the guys who were in this conversation.

The National Hockey League is now expecting the playoffs to go the full 7 games, not because it’s good competition and the teams might actually not fall over halfway through for a change, but because it means more money for the NHL and the teams in question. So, you take a Boston, for example, who’s apparently had Toronto’s number all season, and stick them in a playoff round versus Toronto. Then, you tell them, “Look. You guys flatten this team, okay? But that does nothing for us. Let them come back a time or few. Keep them interested. *Then* flatten them. Deal?”. And of course, because the teams get a pretty sizeable chunk of money during the playoffs anyway, both are fine with it.

Now, flash forward to the second round, and you’re a Senators hopeful. If you’re these Senators hopefuls, you’ve already got it figured out but good. Ottawa has the talent to take this thing pretty well all the way, you see. They could slam the door any old time and it’s all over. But that’s less money, and we all know how much the owners love their money. So instead you’ve got Ottawa holding back, while Pittsburgh goes up by 3. Most Sens fans would be a little worried by now. But oh no. These guys have it in the bag. Now, it’s Ottawa’s turn to do the owning–it’s supposed to go 7, after all. So Ottawa does their shtick tonight, then in the next, and eventually ties this thing up. Then, they can max out the money on both sides, give the fans their game 7, and Ottawa can take its much deserved place in the conference finals. Because money, and owners want some, and I honestly have absolutely no freaking clue.

I think, if nothing else, I’ve just unearthed a teeny tiny side-effect of being an Ottawa Senators fan. Having never actually won a cup (the Original Senators don’t count, as this is not the original Senators) leads a select few to unimaginal bouts of desperation. That desperation is quickly followed by a spin off into the land of alternate reality. There is a solution. And it isn’t even a painful solution. And it’s probably much more of a likely outcome than the theory. I just don’t think I’d wanna be anywhere near these guys when it happens.

One of the things that keeps me close to Ottawa is that it’s got all of the convenience of a major city, but the atmosphere of a small town. More often than not, that’s a thing that kind of comes out when you least expect it. Like on the first weekend of actual warm weather, when I’m sitting here working on I forget what, and out of the blue, completely from absolutely nowhere–or maybe just around the corner, comes a thing I haven’t heard since I was, we’ll say, 13.

Apparently, I’m not sure if it’s this part of the city or just this community, but somebody from somewhere drives an ice cream truck. And at about quarter past 8 on Saturday, the thing sat in front of my house for a good 20 minutes. Over top of the music, I swear there must have been a good dozen kids out there at any one time. I was halfway tempted to go nab something, if only because again, not since I was maybe 13. Sadly that required both money and the motivation to find something that would have been appropriate to wear even in my front yard, given what would have been my extremely close proximity to the afore mentioned dozen kids. And since I wasn’t sure I had the first and couldn’t be arsed to find the second, I contented myself with sitting here listening. Because really, that’s probably the second best sign of summer in existence–second only to the only solution to 35 above freezing being a vanilla milk shake at a temperature approximately 35 below freezing. That having been said, though, if it’s not a one-time thing I’m storing a stash of quarters in my sock drawer. Because signs of summer, dammit.

I spent 5 years, we’ll call it, in Ottawa altogether, not counting the year I spent in small-town exile. And until now, I had absolutely no clue such a creature even existed in the city–although I did find other small town style things to be mildly impressed at. It’s the kind of thing you don’t much hear about in the major cities, like your toronto, or your Vancouver, or places like that. It’s what Pembroke could potentially be, if it wanted to be. And it’s a thing that goes awesome well with baseball–provided the team what plays the baseball actually shows up (Sidenote: thanks for yesterday. More, please.). And the thing only took 5 years to find. Because huge small town city is huge, and it almost comes off like several smaller towns all slammed together under one moderately disfunctional city council.

Because I can’t hear a thing without sharing, and since this is pretty much what I got to hear for 20 minutes on Saturday, and because my ability to record what I heard was sharply hindered by my lack of decent recording equipment, combined with the above mentioned lack of motivation to find me something worth wearing in that close proximity to kids, have your very own ice cream truck. Because signs of summer, dammit. Yes, even if you’re one of the 7 people still shoveling your driveway this morning (PS: Better you than me.). Anyone have some spare quarters? My sock drawer’s looking a little empty.

So. The Ottawa Senators made the playoffs. In a shortened season. One I’ve personally been avoiding since it became a shortened season. Awesome. This, roughly translated, means that for approximately the first round, the city will very likely shut down almost entirely at game time. Every sports bar, restaurant with a TV, and hell even some bus routes, will be Sens crazy. And me with my personally enforced lockout, and my not even bothering with the Sens when I wasn’t mid-lockout (although I did enjoy watching them get their asses kicked in 2007′s finals, and may or may not have rubbed it in just a little), with little to nowhere to run if I don’t feel like hiding from people or, really, getting much of anything done. Clearly someone hates me. Although, this does now give me my one opportunity to reconsider my personal lockout. Because really, as much as I have a problem with how things were handled this year, nothing is more satisfying than an Ottawa Senators playoff waxing. And if that waxing should come at the hands of my team of choice, I might feel slightly more justified in suspending it for a game or two. Because 2004. Damn you, NHL. You were not supposed to make things this bloody complicated. Or this bloody jammed up. Ah well. Back to memorizing playoff schedules. Sorry, May–we might be delaying an evening outing or two by a day. Blame the Senators. It’s good for you.

I’ve always said toronto is not a place I’d like to live, but I’ll cheer for its sports teams–well, in baseball, anyway. Hockey as well, until this year’s lockout. Ottawa is the opposite. I love living here, but I’ll not be caught dead cheering for its hockey team–it still doesn’t have a baseball team. Now, though, it almost seems like Ottawa wouldn’t mind duplicating Toronto’s sports environment–complete with the fact playoff action’s a little sparse round these parts.

Take, again, the hockey situation. There’s the Senators, who’ve managed to make it to the Stanley Cup finals in 2008 and then, uh, not really a whole lot else since then. Compared to Toronto, who’s team–well, yeah, we’ll not go there. Just don’t. As far as baseball goes, Ottawa has never had an MLB team. The minor league team they did have packed up and moved around the same time the Montreal Expos stopped being the Montreal Expos. They want to bring another minor league team to Ottawa, but last I’d heard signs were still hazy–I was told to try again later. They still don’t have an MLB team and I’m not entirely sure this city could support one. They made two attempts at a football team–again, to compete in the same league as that in Toronto. They both imploded and they’re going for a third. And now, apparently, they want to give soccer and basketball a shot.

Ottawa is hardly a sports city. Even if at one point it could have been, I’m pretty sure after everything went bust at the start of the recession it probably can’t really aford to be now. But that doesn’t seem to be stopping the folks what have the money to burn from trying. Look, guys. You’re Ottawa, okay? You’re not Toronto. You can’t be Toronto–it just isn’t in you (see also: transit, efficiency of).

You just can’t do it. And that’s part of what makes the city two times awesome. Don’t you be going off and ruining it over some obsession with being the big city next door, okay? Take it from a guy who frequented there (not by choice). It’s not worth the screwed factor. Tell ya what, though. If you’re going to insist on being called the little toronto, give me a bit of time before you start taking on some of its other characteristics, okay? I’m gonna need to find me a place to move. I wonder if there’s space free in Victoria–who has absolutely no problem with not being Toronto. Now, talking it out of being Vancouver might be a small problem–but hey, there’s awesome in Vancouver. I can work with that.

Ever since I started considering Ottawa home, somebody somewhere’s been nattering on about light rail transit (LRT). It was supposed to be up and running by now. Then it was still in the initial planning phase. Then it was cancelled. Then it was reborn with new management. then it was over budget. Now, a small age after it was first brought up, Ottawa says they’re ready to get underway. for sure, now. Promise. Step 1: redo the transitway. Wait–what?

If OC Transpo has its way, and they’re figuring they will, most if not all of the transitway from the downtown core to pretty much the east end of the city will be rail line. For folks what exist in Ottawa and do the bus thing, that means there’s about to be a whole lotta shaking going on as they shuffle every route that even dips onto the transitway for 5 seconds onto the 417–which they’re also hoping to have widened by the time that becomes an issue. That means, if we’re doing our theoretical trip from this place to a college campus in the east end (more on that in another entry), rather than walk up to the mall that isn’t far from here and catch a direct route, we’ll be theoretically hopping at least one bus, to what I’m assuming will be the nearest train station in this end of the city, jumping a train to the east end, then hopping a bus from there–unless they really surprise me–and getting off at the campus location. Or, walking up to the mall in this end, grabbing a bus and taking a very indirect route to the east end and getting dropped off where we’re supposed to be. either way, they take a system that works fairly well–when their drivers don’t decide to go on strike for 3 months–and make it overly complicated. And they still have absolutely no idea how most of the thing’s going to work, or how much more they’ll be charging folks, when it’s all said and done.

The transitway was designed so the major routes, particularly the ones stopping off at universities and the like, could get downtown from here without sifting through rush hour trafick to do so. The plan as it stands now will see those same routes, probably with several changes, heading downtown via the highway–and right along with rush hour trafick. Which, no big surprise, will take longer–not something OC Transpo needs when they’re trying to *increase* ridership.

All of this is supposed to happen in early 2013. This time, they mean it. Pinky swear, even. So they’ve got about until 2016 to make a few more adjustments–or at least clarify the ones already made. In theory, it’s a cost saver. But in theory, we have it already. In 2025, in theory, we’ll know what it looks like. Of course by 2018, no one not in city council will actually care.

I love Ottawa. Which probably has a little bit to do with the fact I’ve been here for college once and here for grown-up reasons twice. What I find amusing, though–I can’t quite decide if I love it or wish it dead–is it seems like weather paterns up here like to play with us. The entire first half of winter, it barely dropped below freezing. And, if we got any kind of snow at all, it was that really light dusting that was just barely enough to make things go crunch and that’s about it. Also it usually took a hike a day or two later. That threatened to change near the end of December, but I’m pretty sure that was just mother nature screwing with us a little more. Doing the false sense of security thing, you know how it goes. My proof? It built up to the white smackdown of Friday and parts of Saturday.

I’m not calling the dumping we got on Friday a white smackdown–I’ll leave describing it in terms of epic badness up to the media. Why? I’ve seen a white smackdown. Lived through it. Blogged it. Then called in sick to work the next day and slept in ’til about noon or so–because, goddammit, they were right. *That* was a white smackdown. Friday? Practice. Decent try, though, considering it’s still got the first half of winter to make up for. And it did give me wicked nifty opportunities to test my ability to navigate a neighbourhood I know next to nothing about while capturing a wayward dog and dragging her home–yes, this is how I occasionally spend my mornings, okay? But it could do better. I mean, hell–I honestly expected not to be able to open my back door. Well, not without aid of a shovel, anyway.

Winter actually had me somewhat concerned. Then it happened. I’m still waiting on the snow storm. Nice try, winter. Now, do better.

A long long time ago, in an Ottawa far away, somebody somewhere thought Football in the capital would be a grand idea. It created the Ottawa Rough Riders. In theory, brilliant. In practice, they went bust. They came out with a sequel, and called them the Ottawa Renegades. They, also, went bust. That was 2005 or 2006. flash forward to now, and they’ve decided third time’s a charm. It’s not really a guarantee yet, but they’re pushing for it. And hard. So hard, in fact, that they’ve narrowed their choices for a team name down to 5, neverminding the fact it’s not even a sure fire thing there’ll be a team to name. and I have to wonder why there should be.

Here’s the thing from where I’m sitting. Ottawa’s hockey team’s doing, as much as it pains me to say it, relatively well. Sure, every game’s not necessarily sold out, but when the season starts, it’s Senators this, NHL that, and from day one it’s the countdown to the stanley cup–even if they have this nasty little habbit of puking about 5 miles from it. Ottawa has escentially 2 seasons. Winter, or hockey, and summer, or construction. We had a minor league baseball team here for a few years. Yet, unless you caught the sports segment of the local news station, you wouldn’t know it. They, too, packed up and moved elsewhere a couple years ago. And I don’t know very many people around here anymore who can say they’ve been to a game. Oh, and before Ottawa’s football teams decided to implode, you were hard pressed to find someone who followed them–well, unless you flipped to the sports segment of your local news. Somehow they can string together all kinds of people who’re all for even the least interesting team going. People just can’t get interested on mass in a football team. Not to the extent that one would actually be able to stay in the city. But they keep trying. Eventually, there has to come a point where they decide they’ve sunk enough money into a dead end project, yeah? So when do we get to announce we’ve reached that point? Because I hyonestly can’t help but think there’s a ton of money being thrown at redeveloping Lansdowne Park for not much. although, if football in Ottawa does collapse in on itself again, maybe they can convince the Ex to come back…

When I started this blog, I had no idea I’d end up moving to Ottawa. Meaning at all. And yet, I’ve officially been here twice–and every move has been quite the adventure. When I moved the first time, the hour and a half drive on a good day became the 4 hour drive in a snowstorm. Moving back to Petawawa, we were soked to the skin before half the truck was unpacked. Which made hauling boxes and the like into the apartment an exercise in timing. Moving back to Ottawa presented its own issues, most of those logistical. And, naturally, most of those could have been avoided if–no, nevermind, that train left ages ago. Moving in September presented yet more logistical–and logical–difficulties. Not to mention took way longer than ever it should have (for the record, the next person who tells me we can move sans Uhaull gets a UKick squarely in the UFace). Shockingly, moving in October, to the apartment we’re in now, was a breeze. Well, after trying desperately to work out the finer points of logistics on that end and having half of them fall apart on contact. The majority of the huge crap was moved in only a couple hours. And, well, after the help left, we handled the rest.

So fast forward to this month. I may have mentioned–at least in passing on Twitter–we had another move pending. The reasons are plenty, and they’ll make the blog when the smoke clears, but suffice it to say things went from awesome to suck in 5.2. So yesterday and today, we took off to poke around the new neighbourhood. Y’know, do the old fashioned let’s see where this goes, what this does, and exactly how painful getting from $home to $place will actually be. And today, it decided to be minus cold while we did it. I should probably point out it was fairly well above freezing this past weekend–and just barely at freezing yesterday. So today’s sudden dive was a particular act of cruelty. Or, as I’ve decided as of 5 minutes ago to declare it, mother nature’s little warning shot. Staring at temperatures right now makes me very glad we did our poking around earlier this morning–for folks familiar with the measurement, it’s -15 C.

We’re doing it again next week, largely because–hey, it gives us a chance to figure out how best to get ourselves lost when trying to get somewhere simple. And I’m trying my damnedest to not even think right now about exactly how far away from freezing–on the absolute wrong side of freezing–we’re supposed to get just in time for us to go about doing exactly that. And from this, I can draw only one conclusion. James is not allowed to move anywhere, at least in Ottawa, ever. It’s just not natural. And if, on whichever day we actually decide to start haulling things over to the new place, everything goes to hell, I’ll have my proof. And I’ll still be incredibly pissed with mother nature. Which, I’m fairly sure, is exactly how she likes it.

Ottawa’s weather paterns are doing it to me again. there was actual, honest to goodness white stuff on the ground 3 days ago. There still is–in places. But largely, thanks to some nifty shifting in temperatures, the majority of that white stuff became very incredibly wet. to the point of there was a rather impressive river out in front of this building when walks were needing to be taken. Environment Canada’s recent forecast says the majority of Canada will have a very green Christmas this year. Apparently somebody somewhere is dreaming of a wet one. And that dream’s coming true. They’ll just have to move to Ottawa.

So coming on the end of November, we were still dealing with temperatures mostly above freezing. I mean sure, okay–there was that one minor little snow scare that made me go “oh shit where’s my portable shovel” a couple weeks ago, but for the most part, it’s been actually, you know, pleasant. Just at, or above, freezing–hell, we got as high as 17 degrees c week before last. Or was that last week? Whenever. Then yesterday, I woke up to ice on the sidewalk by our building and the threat of a snowpile by later last night/this morning. If what I’m reading’s anywhere near accurate, it’s a little more than a threat now–and a little more than snow. And Ottawa folks, here’s the kicker–it didn’t take for bloody ever this time.

I’m used to Ottawa’s weather paterns. Or rather, I’m used to what they *should* be. You get about half a foot of snow, maybe a day or two of freezing rain, then by the weekend, about 80% of it goes melt and we sit above freezing for another week or so. This year? december came and so did the holy fuck it be a cold one. So who ran off with our 1500 warnings? Or better yet, who’s bloody idea was it to slap me in the face with snow on get things done day? Oh, and if that idea came from Texas, you’re fired.

When I posted about the choir performance on Friday–you know, the one May was all over for about a week before, and will be for about a month after, I eluded to Noah having up and claimed a starring role. For those who don’t know, Noah would be May’s guidedog. Being the guidedog, he pretty much goes everywhere she goes–including, apparently, up on stage with her. So when they were getting ready to do their final song of the night, May gets an idea in her head. And that idea proves to be the concert’s absolute wickedest of awesome.

I posted an audio recording yesterday–again, sorry for the less than perfect quality–of one of their better songs. This, surprise puppy appearance notwithstanding, was perhaps their best. But it’s useless without the video–since about halfway through, the audience decides to help them out–again, May’s fault. And really. This? Best. Guidedog. Video. Ever. I might be somewhat biased. So you decide. And once again, if you happen to be in the Ottawa area, these guys really need a look. For serious.

Note: Readers of the email or RSS variety are going to have to flip on over to the sight to clicky clicky. Flash doesn’t like non-browser things. tho thorry thir.

On the face of it, city councillor Diane Deans’s idea to drop a few coffee shops at major transit stops in Ottawa is a good one. I have no idea how many times I’m trying to get to x place, that passes right through y transit station, and my only option for coffee is to duck off to the Timmies or Starbucks down the way and miss the bus I’m trying to catch. Or leave half an hour early and flip a coin if I catch the next one. But here’s a question I wish someone talking to her would ask about this. How in the hell is it she expects your local coffee chain, like a Timmies or a Starbucks, to set up shop at one of those major transit stations, split any money that shop makes with the city, and not jack up the price of coffee–at least at that particular shop–to make up for any shavings off that are heading to the city’s wallet?

She mentions Toronto as an example. And it’s a decent one–if only because the rumour is you can stop at a connection point for a coffee, albeit not a very good one. But toronto is also, still, trying to figure out how not to bleed money out its ear–including insofar as the TTC is concerned. And Ottawa isn’t exactly known for doing things to Toronto’s level, nevermind to the best of its admitedly questionable ability. But come on, now. It’s the private sector, we’re talking about. The city, province or country puts a heel on their finances, the company just shifts it to the folks buying the goods. And since OC Transpo, like the TTC, is having a hell of a time breaking even, you can only imagine the kind of sharing the city wants to engage in–and the kind of price increase we’d be seeing for the convenience.

So yeah, good idea, in theory. In theory, I’d vote for it. As a feel-good money-maker, it works. But from the perspective of the guy what buys the coffee? Yeah, not so fast. starbucks already costs too damn much for a coffee pretty much the same size I can buy at timmies–which borders on costing too damn much. Anything that goes to making it cost that much more? Go that way, please and thanks. Unless Diane Deans knows something I don’t–which, okay, is entirely possible. I mean, she’s a city councillor, so she must know of which she speaks. Oh who am I kidding?

I mentioned yesterday that the thing to do in this apartment now is a local choir. I tossed this link out there if you were curious to check it out. They performed last night, and because it’s me, that meant I tagged along with recorder in hand. Good effin’ lord, they’re awesome. Keep an eye out, if you’re local to the Ottawa area. They do this often, and they’re worth it. rumour has it they have a huge show in June as well, so if you can find an excuse to be in Ottawa, see them you must. There are chapters elsewhere in Ontario as well–Kingston’s got one, as does the Pembroke area, but hey. I’m in Ottawa now. So it’s the Ottawa one I’m focused on. Sorry. Because they rule hard, and I don’t yet have video evidence to prove it, have the audio evidence I sort of stole while at the show. Oh, and speaking of stealing, somebody should probably tell May’s dog he’s not actually supposed to be the star. Context when videos exist. As for right now, have a listen. then keep an eye out in your area for a chapter of theirs. Or better yet, come to the Ottawa one–and say hello to both May and myself in the process. Sorry in advance if the quality isn’t what you expected. I’m blaming that guy over there.

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Something else I’m going to need to get used to. When there’s a power issue in Ottawa, this building usually isn’t part of it–well, unless management breaks something but that’s a whole other entry. So neither May nor I knew there was interesting times until we had stuff to do. That stuff to do took us to Algonquin College first, where I’m assuming the problems first showed up–only one of their buildings, conveniently enough the building we needed to go to, was without power. We were still able to do most of what needed doing, so whatever. We escaped the college, and on our way out, the rest of the campus pretty much went dark. Supposedly it was fixed fairly quickly, as when we went to grab supper on the way home, places in that area had power. It turns out Hydro Ottawa, yes *that* Hydro Ottawa of the almost semi-annual bill increase, broke their connection with Ontario’s power grid. And there went a good chunk of Ottawa’s hydro. If I was still living where I was at this time last year, I’d very likely be mocking the power outage from a different perspective. But now I’m curious. aside from the college and probably my old apartment building, how much of Ottawa was in the dark and for how long?

Also this proves something. May and I are not allowed to go anywhere together. Bad things happen. Although, it usually provides material for the site. Okay forget what I just said.

Every so often, I’ll accidentally come across something local that kinda makes me go holy crap the awesome. that sort of accidentally happened last weekend. Well, actually, it happened earlier last week, more or less–after a trip to starbucks. One of the folks what works there told May and I about a restaurant not far from there. It apparently only opened a few months ago. They call it the Big Rig Brewery. They make their own beer, plus you know everything in that restaurant’s pretty well made to order. May will probably come up with her own take on the place, but here’s what you’ll find right when you walk in.

From start to finish, awesome slaps you in the face ten-fold. First, and this is an unusual thing for an Ottawa area restaurant, you’re strongly recommended to make a reservation before you go. At first I scratched my head about that one. then we showed up. Oh, my everloving god, the packed. The place is huge, and still I swear it was nearly to capacity. They had decent music, when you could hear it. Just about everything at one point or another ended up played. The service was absolutely amazing, right from when we walked in. Which, if you do the foursquare thing, is quite consistent with what folks who went there before us were saying–yes, for the anti-foursquare types among you, that’s a plus in foursquare’s column, not that I use it very often. Within 10 minutes of getting seated, we had drinks on the way. And because their menu’s online–that’s a plus in just about any restaurant’s column if you’re me, we pretty much knew exactly what we wanted and had it ordered inside of 15. Which edges me towards what we went there for.

Pretty much all of their food has something to do with the beer they brew right there. Usually, if it’s not used to cook with, it’s a recommended pearing if you’re in the mood for something alcoholic. May doesn’t do beer, and I wasn’t in the mood, but that didn’t make their dinner choices any less brainmelty. Or mouthmelty, if you’d prefer. Almost every sauce, seasoning, breaded thing, and pretty much everything else had, if not as the base then as a somewhat minor ingredient, one of their lines of beer. Oh, and let’s not forget–the beer they cooked with was usually the one they’d recommend pearing with. which if I went that way would have probably made it awesome squared, but I’m not sure I could have handled that much awesome.

I’m not usually big on onion rings, but what the hell. I’m there for the food. So I had the onion rings. And holy effin’ crapcracker. Natch, they were beer-breaded. They also, I do believe, may have just made me reconsider my opinion on onion rings. Maybe. But only if I’m there. And only if they go with the rum and coke I chased them with.

I had that, and pasta, which was also freakin’ awesome aside from the lack of garlic bread–really, who doesn’t serve garlic bread with their pasta? I think, though I’ll have to review it, their pasta was one of the very few dishes that didn’t actually use any of their beers as an ingredient. Still, it was wicked enough on its own. I very nearly required a forklift to get me out the door. So of course that meant I had to try dessert. For the record, apple pie goes just fine with rum and coke, thank you. It did nothing to help my requirement of a forklift, but you’ll have that.

Here’s the thing about that restaurant. Yes, we knew what we wanted, more or less. But here’s why it took us 15 minutes to actually get it ordered. Their menu is effin’ deadly. I mean that. It’ll run you over, then turn around to make sure you haven’t moved. We knew what we wanted, but there were about a dozen possibilities between the two of us. so figuring out exactly what we wanted on this particular visit was, well, kind of fun. In a “let’s split your brain in 6 different directions” kind of way. And if/when we go back there again, there’ll probably be twice the breakage. If only because I’m pretty sure we missed a page or two when browsing the menu the first time.

If you’re in the Ottawa area and looking to find somewhere to eat, drink and be merry, the Big Rig Brewery is on Iris street, just behind the Ikea–it’s the only Ikea in Ottawa, so if you can find that, you can find the place. Now here’s the thing. Yes, the food is absolutely awesome. The beer probably is too. But you get what you pay for. So you might want to make sure you’re not gonna run the risk of going broke if you decide to take an evening and go have a little something. But if you do decide to go, it’s well worth it. Oh, but if you’re a foursquare user and you glom on to the mayorship before May does, I’ll just leave the two of you alone for a few minutes. The winner can find me later–I’ll be at the bar, likely enjoying my third rum and coke.

And since this is a thing that’s close to home, why the hell not? May has started getting back into the whole singing thing. And she’s doing it with a pretty decent local choir group. They have the occasional public performance deal going on–including one tonight, so the story goes. I’ve heard some of what they do, and they definitely stick in your head a little. If this is the kind of thing you’re in to, you need to be over here, and you can read May’s take on it on her own site. If you’re bored and happen to be in and around the Ottawa area on a performance night, check them out. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. And now, because it’s been way too long since I’ve thought about sleep, it’s high time I go catch an hour.

PS: If this works, new toy. I rave about that later. Maybe.

Because we don’t have anything better to do with our time, Ottawa’s pushing for a casino of its very own. And hey looky that, it’s got the mayor’s backing. Could this possibly mean I won’t have to learn french just so I can go have a stress free gamble without needing to wander down Niagara way? Well, uh, possibly. If the freakin’ thing doesn’t suck huge. Which, given–hi, we’re talking Ottawa, here–I’ll be brushing up on my french relatively shortly. But hey, it’s good to have choices.

So apparently just after midnight last night, the Montreal area discovered an earthquake. I say apparently, because unlike, oh we’ll say, this one, we felt absolutely nothing. And, well, considering we’re on the freakin’ 6th floor, you’d think we would. It was apparently a 4.5 on the scale. Are we the only ones who didn’t actually know we had an earthquake until several hours after it happened? Or have we perhaps failed epicly at observation? That happens too. Either way, earthquake. Again. Around Ottawa area. Again. That’s it, I aughta just move to toronto.

People say the most absolutely randomest of things. Usually at the most oddly weird of times. For anyone who actually knows us, May has a guidedog. Had one for years. Long before she’s met me. I’ve never had one. Haven’t figured I wanted/needed one. what I do has worked since, well, I started doing it. And, well, if it ain’t broke, I don’t necessarily feel up to fixing it (*). And that leads us to a thinggy that just out of nowhere said hello while busing it home.

We’re nearly to our stop, and May goes to get up. I’m staying put temporarily, because there’s a few people between me and where I need to be and well, fighting to get through them on a moving vehicle just doesn’t happen. So the lady across from me decides May’s just the absolute meanest person to walk the planet. She’s supremely concerned about me, and insisting to me that May just got up and walked off with my dog. I actually had to briefly argue with this woman that no, in fact, the dog who’s leash is in May’s hand, who’s at May’s heal on the way off the bus, does not belong to me.

she knew I was blind–I’m going to assume because of the cane, but that’s a guess. Did she, like, completely skip over the fact May was also? Is that what happened? Because May got up and headed for the door, and the cane didn’t come out. Or, uh, something. I honestly have absolutely no idea.

Little known fact for the reader types in and around the Ottawa area. There are quite a few folks who rely on guidedogs. For those that do, they’re awesome–the dog in this conversation is just more awesome than the rest. But not every blind bloke in Ottawa has or wants a dog. Not every blind bloke with a dog in Ottawa takes that dog with them wherever they go–May’s left hers at home a few times and took the cane, just on account of it’s less complicated, sometimes faster, and there’s just some places you don’t need to be taking your dog–like, say, the pet store to get food (talk about your massive source of distraction, and you can’t even really correct for that). And for the love of chese, if one blind bloke gets up and heads for the exit with a dog in tow, chances are pretty good the dog belongs to the blind bloke in question. Especially if they’re with me. Who, again, doesn’t have one. Follow? Awesome. Somebody wanna see that weird bus lady gets this?

(*): I do, on occasion, modify that expression in such a way that it now says “if it ain’t broke, tweek it ’til it is”. But that usually applies to geeky things. And some people’s brains, but you’ll have that.

The following is a cross-post from the Awesome Wonky Lynx. Click over to her site for more, and potentially related. Or not. whichever.

Looking to adopt an animal? Want to add a new four legged friend to your household and thinking the SPCA is the best way to go?

Well, do not go through the SPCA in Ottawa they are more for talking you out of adopting than working with you to find that best match. They have a questionnaire you must fill out and they claim it’s only to get to know you and make sure you know what you’re looking for in a pet.

James and I have been trying to adopt a dog through the SPCA in Ottawa since the end of August and we’ve had nothing but fights with them. Any time we found a dog that would match us and call them about each dog they argued with us about how the dog wouldn’t fit in. For example, this dog loves to bark and wouldn’t be good for apartments, bu hey we told them time and time again that our apartment is cool with dogs and there’s loads of them around and they all bark including the one we already have.Example 2, this dog doesn’t do that well with kids, but hey, that’s ok too since right now we don’t have kids so it’s something that we can work on. That way in the future and the dog is a little older being around kids won’t matter. How about this one, this dog hasn’t been trained at all and you guys said you don’t want to do training. No no you nits, we said we are quite flexible when it comes to training depending on the dog.

So that questionnaire that is suppose to be just a guide line for the Ottawa SPCA, yeah, they lie. They use it to keep telling you no no no that won’t work. We’ll call you when a dog comes up or keep looking on the site and let us know when you see another one.

After doing that 6 times and getting the same results the Ottawa SPCA can go fly a kite.

Now, here’s the awesome thing. James and I are in Petawawa this weekend to do the whole Thanksgiving thing with the parents. We walked into the SPCA here this morning and found a very beautiful girl named Nova. We had a look at her, played with her a bit in the yard, got to know what she’s like and how she may act at first and that was that. On Sunday we take Noah to meet Nova and since I’m pretty sure all will go well there our new girl comes home with us then.

So once again if you’re looking to adopt a pet go anywhere but the SPCA in Ottawa.

Cat

Because of, uh, the nature of me, occasionally taking cabs is kind of a fact of life. Particularly when talking about not knowing exactly where you’re going after you, for instance, get yourself off the bus and pick a random direction. So to avoid a migraine, it’s taxi time. May and I took that route when we decided an evening for dinner would be the thing to do. Getting to the restaurant, no problem whatsoever. Getting back, though? If ever there was a set perfectly fit for a taxi related soap opera, we were sitting in it.

We called for Blueline Taxi, as the usual routine goes. Made the arangements to get us home, and all was well. A car showed up, dropped someone off. We hopped in, fully intending on taking that car back to our place. And we very well would have, but then that would completely and totally have ruined our cab opera and well, we can’t have that.

We just started pulling out of the parking lot, and didn’t get more than maybe 5 feet into it, when another cab pulled in beside us. He rolled down his window, and that’s about when the drama started. A little background, for clarity’s sake. Apparently, there’s a law on the books–an actual, honest to goodness city bylaw–that allows a driver to charge another with stealing his fare. It comes complete with a $25 fine and has apparently been on the books for damn near on 50 years. Also note this is the first I’ve heard of it and, well, I’ve been around the city a few dozen times.

So both cars are now sitting in the parking lot, windows rolled down. The other driver, we’ll call him Tool, is just having a gay old time calling our driver, we’ll call him Clue, out for stealing his fare. He must have spent a good 5 minutes going on about how he was asigned our call and we had to go with him. We argued. Clue argued. Repeatedly. The vehicle we were sitting in showed up first, and that’s the one we were fine with taking. But Tool wouldn’t hear it. He kept repeating how Clue was stealing his fare and he’d be calling to complain about it, yada yada blah. Eventually, we ended up switching vehicles. Partly because it was just getting ridiculous and we were really hoping to be well on our way home by now, and partly because, hey, it’d shut Tool up. Or so we thought. This is why I’m not allowed to think, you see.

Most of the way home was taken up with much of the same argument. Him explaining, yet again, that he couldn’t let Clue take his fare, and how that was his call and we were supposed to have waited for him. We, again, explained that we didn’t give a rat’s ass which vehicle took us home. Clue showed up first, so that’s who got our money. Had Tool, you know, not been a tool and showed up first, he’d of gotten our money and there’d have been no issue whatsoever. And the circle repeats. Eventually, we decide this is just getting absolutely headache inducing. We drop it, pay the tool, get ourselves inside. I called and started things rolling in the complaints department, which eventually lead to me finding out about that obscure Ottawa bylaw.

According to this bylaw, if you call a cab, you are actually supposed to wait for the vehicle specificly asigned to you to come and collect you, whether it takes 15 minutes or half an hour. Anyone else who collects you, whether they offer or you ask (for the record, we asked), opens them up to a charge of stealing the asigned driver’s fare. That charge can hit a driver for $25. Or, in simpler terms, more than what either driver was going to get paid for taking us home in the first damn place. I’d say I’m switching companies effective, uh, immediately, but since this is apparently an Ottawa thing, that won’t make much difference. But the way Tool handled himself, let’s just say switching companies still crossed my mind. And all because of a very obscure, little known and apparently little enforced city bylaw from 50 years ago. Okay, that, and a highly unprofessional tool.

Nevermind that what they’re competing for is second place on the “most expensive city to rent” list. We can actually compete! Toronto still has the upper hand on us so far (we’re number 3), but we’ll handle those bastards. Just like Ottawa’s hockey team handled Toronto–oh wait. Nevermind. Neither city can touch Vancouver, which is either wicked awesome for us or wicked crappy for Vancouver, but when a tiny little closet with a bathroom (they call those bachelor pads) runs just about as much in 2011-2012 as my 1-bedroom started at in 2006, and the actual buildings themselves haven’t really changed a whole lot since then, somebody up in here has a problem or 5. But we’re competing with Toronto! Go Ottawa go!

A transit strike, and several moron drivers later, the city finally decided maybe the folks they have in place, or perhaps the system itself, just isn’t quite performing as advertised. repeatedly. And the same old story from the guy they had in charge of it previously was only managing to piss folks off more than the strike did–very impressive, considering that was quite the accomplishment in itself. So they’ve gotten around, after a little over 3 years, to a top down smackdown. New OC Transpo commissioner, new senior management, and I think I saw the odd new driver in my travels. I’m not sure exactly how much it’ll actually help, but hell, it can’t hurt. Now, if counsel will actually let this new staff do something, you know, useful. Yeah, I can dream. It’s perfectly somewhat healthy. We’ll know if it makes much difference teh next time their contracts implode…

Up until either 2009 or 2010, Ottawa had a minor league baseball team here called the Lynx. They relocated recently, around the same time the Montreal Expos packed up their toys and shuffled off to Washington. You didn’t hear much from that team usually, unless you were 1: watching Ottawa’s A-Channel station or 2: bored enough to attend a game. Very rarely did they make the playoffs, and even then, they didn’t exactly fill the stands. Hence the relocation. Which is still better than what happened to both of Ottawa’s football teams, but I’ve pretty much determined that to be a lost cause. That was the end of pro baseball in Ottawa. Until now. It would seem the city wants to try again, and is coughing up about half of what it’ll cost to renovate the stadium as an insentive–the rest is coming from the company who wants to actually put the team in Ottawa. I’m ordinarily highly enthusiastic about a new sports team coming to the city–especially if the ticket prices are in such a state that they don’t actually cost me 3/4 my grocery money to actually attend a game. But considering the city’s luck with funding/begging sports teams to play here? This can only end badly for everyone involved. On the other hand, this team can at least–hopefully–use the fact they’re not associated with the Phillies as a selling point. That should boost sales.