Thursday, February 16, 2006

travelling with Tank Girl

So the list of ten reasons why I love taking transit is going to have to wait a while because i have a more important reason to write tonight.

My mom's dog, Tank Girl, died tonight. Tank's personality and her attitude towards the people who came into her life, like so many lovely Rottweiler/Border Collie cross mutts epidomized both love and loyalty. Whether you were someone who fed her a cookie or took her for a 'car ride' (one of her best hobbies), she could basically size you up and determine whether or not you were worthy of her love. Usually you were. The funny thing is, most people who met her were the ones who ended up loving her instantly. (Cheesy as it sounds I just sent out a group email to all of my friends and acquaintences tonight with the news, I expect a 95% reply rate on the missive.)

Lately I've been thinking alot about the notion of love. What makes people love eachother?Wh love? What makes you fall out of love? How folks love. Tank loved in a lot of ways, but once she loved you, man were you a lucky human. She cuddled like your best friend. She cleaned like your frenetic grandmother. She made messes like your most obnoxious brother. She was really tolerant and above all patient. I used to take her to raves for godssake. She had these super knowing eyes, beautiful milk chocolate brown eyes than would look deeply into yours. When you were down she'd lick your hand gently, nudging you as if to say, "Suck it. I love you. Now lets go to the park." When you were up, it was contagious and she'd be as giddy or happier than you. In my twenty some years I've rarely met many humans or been to many places that were as intuitive and natural in their affection as Tank Girl.

We called her Tank Girl after her chubby puppy figure. My mom got her when I was in grade 12. Both of us were going through our party stage - me because I was about to graduate highschool and was allowed to drink, her because she was a new divorcee sorting through the web of wasted matrimony. A couple of months before we had lost Kootenay, the 'perfect dog'. Kootenay was super smart but just dog enough to be hit by a truck on one of Merritt's major byways. Tank Girl was the replacement and it took us a long time to let go of Kootenay and love her with our hearts. It makes me really sad to think back to how we used to compare her all the time to Kootenay when she didn't house train as quickly or learn her commands in as short a time. The thing is, while Kootenay was the smart one, and loving. Tank's heart was probably twice the size and her imperfections almost made her love and be loved all the more.

So anyways this blog is about transit and travelling so I'll leave you with this little image. The year I took care of Tank when my mom went travelling she took the ferry over to Vancouver with me a few times. She was such a friendly canine that when I would leave her in the canine area in the bowels of the ferry, and would go upstairs for a hot chocolate I'd always return to Tank charming someone. Whether it was a fat faced little pug or a super yuppy Vancouverite, she entranced them in a matter of minutes with her easy smile and her engaging eyes.

Love baby pure love.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

almost, finally, sometime

Bad blogger. Bad. I know. Don't start. Guilt is a big part of my life so I'm not looking for it here. November until now has been a bit of a shitshow in terms of the warpspeed at which my life travels and my decreasing time management skills. Christmas great in small town Alberta with mom: $10 cowboy boots, $3 belt buckles, 10 lbs. of baking and a blender top! Followed by a whirlwind, intense 48 hours of NYE mayhem with my bitches Elske, Taryn, Chelsea and Jeets (involving vodka, I know, slow learner, parties and a couple of trashed Fairmont hotel rooms). Then there was the trip to Whistler. One of my oldest friends had a baby: welcome to the world beautiful Molly. I've also organized one failed birthday party and decided to cut back to 3/4 time at my day job so that I can write more. All this happened between Dec. 23 - Jan 31. Whoa.

One of the reasons why I've been such a bad bus blogger is that I was considering purchasing a car. A 1985 Jetta or a 1986 Volvo turbo. I had some cold hard xmas bonus cash burning a hole in my pocket and wanted some wheels. Commercial and Broadway is a wealth of diversity and activity during the day but an absolute nightmare at night. So I started trying to find affordable, comfy and stereoed cars on Craigslist. Not as easy as I thought but there were prospects. Until the voice of reason that is my grandfather jumped in and told me about my cousins' newly purchased 1985 Jetta that went kaput faster than you can say sauerkraut soon after he took possession.

So after about three weeks of half-ass searching I decided, that no, like most commitments in life, this is another one I will avoid. Instead I'm going to New York in March for 8 days to explore Manhatten, Queens and the Bronx solo. I'll be staying with my old yankee travel mate Amber who I met in South Africa 3 years ago. Good times. Who needs a car anyways...

Tomorrow: 10 reasons why I heart the bus. Seriously.