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An Ode To My Car, 2001-09-13, 11:30 p.m.


Ok... I'm going to try to talk about something other than the tragedy. Since I had a hard time going to sleep last night because of scary thoughts and nightmares the night before, as it gets later in the night, I'm going to try to focus elsewhere.

I was sitting in my car today thinking about my car. Yes, I drive. I use my car to get around. It may not be the most environmental, but it is what we've chosen. That out of the way, my thoughts.

See... my car is beat up. The rocker panels are missing. The windshield is cracked in two places. It has been refered to as a death trap. My seat has to be welded on. There is a dent in the trunk where I backed into a crane. Its blue with bits of rust. Only one of those colours is original. Its, well, its not a great car cosmetically. We've been told we should get a new one since I have a job now.

But... its our car. It's the car we drove to Bangor in. The car we slept in waiting for the ferry. The car we ran over a rock and nearly blew up in. The car we spent nights at the garage up on the base. The car that got us across the province. That got us to Argentia many time. That we slept in after long nights at the hospital. The car that transported the moped on our midnight drive from where we bought it. The car that brought our cat home. The car that we drove to the vet so late at night/early in the morning when she died. The car that brought home our new cat later when we were ready to heal. The car that brought part of the drama club to the drama fest. The car that brought me to job interviews, schools and family.

This car is my stadium. My Stage. My forum.

I know. It's a car. It's just weird thinking of selling it. Especially for parts. And, well, we're not going to think of it seriously until we have money. But it has come up recently.

It's amazing how something that looks like such a bucket of bolts can have such memories.


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