Notes in Anticipation of Maine

It's been sort of a busy and uninspiring week, hence the lack of posts. I could talk about Chase Utley's broken hand as a metaphor for everything that's horrible and tragic in my life (this is a blog, after all), but instead I think I'll stick to some random musings regarding the week in Maine I'll be enjoying come tomorrow morning. I've never been to Maine. I have no idea what it's like or what you do there. But here's what I'm imagining:

-- Me in plaid shorts sipping some sort of lemonade through a straw.
-- Me strolling along the docks, discussing the tides.
-- Me shoving every lobster roll in the great state of Maine into my mouth.
-- Me hiking for five seconds.
-- Me upside down in a kayak unable to flip back over.
-- My girlfriend asking me to cool it with the lobster rolls.
-- Me reading Cloud Atlas for a few hours, then switching to US Weekly.
-- Me thinking the Lobster Fest would be a hell of a lot better without all these other people.
-- Me getting lost on the drive up there.
-- Me hanging out with hippies.
-- Me watching the sunset while eating a lobster roll.
-- Me reaching into the water, pulling out a lobster, and biting into it.

Hmmm, that's all I can think of. Oh, but here's my Grand Vision of what it will be like in Maine: I picture that as I drive into the state, suddenly there will be people lining both sides of the highway like there's a marathon or the Tour de France going by. But instead of a race, it's just me in my Toyota. And instead of cups filled with water, all these people are holding out, obviously, hot dog rolls filled with lobster meat. So we roll down the windows, stick our hands out, and grab as many lobster rolls as we can while driving by. Ah, Maine.