I don't quite know why, but it seems that nothing really blog-worthy has happened since I've been on Nantucket. Yes I have a new job, new house, new roommate, new almost-friends (we don't know each other well enough for me to call them friends but they will be), I've seen celebrities, I've gotten drunk, I've flirted, danced, lied, made bad choices, made good choices, spent money, spent more money, talked to Tierra like a bajillion times on the phone, been home sick, considered spending the rest of my life here, and just kind of hung out. I've yet to go to the beach (maybe today), but I'm still dealing with the last dredges of poison ivy so I'm not too distraught about that.
Seriously?! Its weird, everything is fine and okay but...I keep expecting something to happen. I keep comparing this summer to Theatre on the Hill 2004 and my trip to Cape Town, which is kind of stupid because while those events had a lot in common (many people in a small confined space who had to forge relationships with the help of much alcohol and who had very little actual work to do), this summer I'm working full time (today is my first day off in 7 days...gross) only living with one person I'm not related to and since she doesn't have the same running-rampant alcoholic gene I do we've only gone out once. And we had a great time. So I shouldn't complain. And I've only been here a week and I have like 10 weeks left. So I really should just give fate a litte time to work itself out.
Anyway, the one thing that I kept thinking about that was almost blog-worthy in its total randomness is the title of the blog. On my walk to work there is a "puddle", in quotes because the thing is pond-sized. It should be on a map, there should be fishes living in it. It comes when there has been a day or more of rain because the people creating the drainage system for the island took a big old bong hit before they did this little patch of road. If its sunny for a few days it dries up, but this is Nantucket, so the weather is as reliable as a crack whore so, it's pretty much always there. And completely unavoidable on my journey to work.
So, normally I try to look just pathetic and dim enough to get someone to drive me over the puddle, but occasionally my timing is totally off, forcing me to find my own way over. So I take off my shoes and pull up the legs of my jeans and grumble my way over. But EVERY time this has happened, a Beatles song (twice Let it Be, once Dig a Pony) has been playing on my ipod.
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