jamais deux sans trois (when it rains, it pours)

It took me over eight months to decide upon the creation of such a blog. For such a long time, I was paranoid that sharing my thoughts on a more permanent medium than my own mind would induce dissatisfaction overall. As with most things, this feeling passed and I pushed myself to establish this blog, much from the encouragement of two good friends. Some friends peer others to smoke drugs or eat concoctions in the school lunchroom. Mine mean well for the most part, fortunately.

Today, I thought I would take advantage of my recent dedication to only using my car when I must. Like yesterday, I walked to the small park near Ludlow to read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. On the way there from my house, I took very photos of what used to be old hotels in the Clifton area, which are now simply apartment buildings. There are also a few black & white shots of the old brick homes we have in the area. I feel likely to have so many inanimate subjects to shoot.

I figured I'd pick up groceries when I began to feel small raindrops. The event that followed is one reason why I settled upon the name for the username for my blog. As with every name I choose though, it ended up having several possible interpreted meanings, just the way I like it. You guessed it--it poured. Not only that, I chose paper over plastic while at the checkout register. I became as close as a couple hundred feet from home when the first handle broke. Two minutes later, the second handle broke and down fell one of my bags. I carried my two paper grocery bags like I would bring home a thirty-pound turkey or a restless child.

Somehow my rejection of convenience felt worthwhile, even though I dripped on to the hallway mat as I entired my front door. Yes, I dripped. I was one giant raindrop.