who says rain boots don't come in handy in LA? (thanks mom!). this ain't no lake, kids. nor the ocean (though it's not so far off in the clarity department). that's a pretty little puddle i found on my way home from work. i actually couldn't see the bottom before i stepped into it, which was kind of exciting. and also stupid. i also didn't see the emerging car that quickly contributed to my already preposterous pose (i.e. standing calf-deep in a murky pool of god-knows-what at a busy intersection while balancing an umbrella on my shoulder and taking pictures of my feet) by sending a 6-foot spray of gutter goo all over me. serves me right, i guess.crazy is as crazy does.
still, there's something liberating about a pair of wellies in the rain. it's like the first time i discovered the beauty of neoprene's magical forcefield against cold water. i really don't know how i lived without them for so long - especially in vancouver. (and to think of all the wet-jean-leg i could have spared myself!). it should be some sort of mandatory government subsidy: one pair of boots per citizen. classify it as a mental health provision. or new-age regression therapy. how else can you explain my instant and dying need to pounce and wade through any splash-worthy body of water in sight? and all with a huge shit-eating, or rather puddle-stomping grin plastered across my face? sometimes i even squeal a little, too. which might explain some of the looks i was getting tonight.
in any case, good times.
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