King of the World

Sheena has always had a particular affection for the shopping cart born free. For the brave little hell on wheels who had the guts to break away from the pack. See the world, carry a load of drunk chicks in Prada heels instead of Wonder Bread and 24-packs of toilet paper.

From one of those early nights in Winnipeg when the Beast and I drove each other home, only to look up and see my boss through the thin metal grid, to the backlane during a post-social revelry when Pat and I wore hockey ref shirts over our little black dresses and duct taped people together, to that cash-flow positive evening in Miami when I pulled in $35 US DOLLARS giving people rides around the hotel parking lot, and of course that fateful night in Fredericton when I made the project manager jump in and we crash landed at the doorstep of the next pub down the block smiling pretty so the bouncer didn't send us down the hill...

So many people have said, "Sheena, Kitchener-Waterloo? WTF"? Strangely, this community has felt like home almost from day 1. And I think I know why. Let's take a little walk in a 3 block radius, shall we?

The one pic I regret not getting was of my little beacon. The shopping cart that rested beside the fire hydrant directly across the street from my house. It sat there as a reminder of which place was mine, from the date of closing to just last weekend, when one of the neighbour kids hopped on and and like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titantic, threw his chest out triumphantly and rolled down the hill....