Well for starters, my name is Tim. I could tell you all the basics about who I am, but if successful, my stories should speak for themselves. So here goes, my life as a blogger officially begins...
Why 'My Wet Socks' you may ask? Well it wasn't the first thing that came to mind. In fact, I had compiled a list of my finalists and asked an especially critical friend to give me his thoughts. All were shot down except for one. But no, it wasn't this one. He actually preferred 'Just in Tim.' I know what you're thinking, brilliant. Haha, no I admit it was lame, "ghey" even. But for me, every list of potential titles always winds up having a pun in there somewhere. I was back to the drawing board. 'My Wet Socks' came to mind just a few minutes ago actually, and I just went with it. Sometimes you have to do that I guess. Just go with it. However, the wet socks do have a story...
As many of you could relate, wet socks are one of the worst annoyances life can treat us to. I dealt with the crisis Friday night. The second my Vans hit the snow, I knew my toes were pissed at me. I would've worn boots, but I was going to see a friend's band play at a lounge in the city. And being honest, boots don't say "I'm just kicking back, listening to my friends make music." Boots say something more like "I'm prepared to combat any weather force, despite all laws of fashion." So naturally, I went with the Vans.
It began with just a little moisture and poor insulation. But every street corner we hit, we were faced with a blacktop of slush to play hop-scotch on. The worst was the melted ice. Resting motionless beside the curb a guy could easily fall under the impression that 'hey, there's a patch of shiny black pavement, it must be okay to step there,' only to find his right foot completely submerged in ice water within seconds, and again two blocks later. Apparently hypothermia coincides with gullibility, and yours truly was the victim.
It's that sort of situation that spurs one or two alternatives, both of which are absurd, but nevertheless have successfully crossed your mind. There's option A: Go numb or go home. In this scenario you've ripped off both your shoes and socks and are running rampantly to your destination with no time to think. And then there's option B: Road block. In this scenario you just stop. You give up against the unyielding explosions of frostbite against your toes and stop right in your tracks. You've now accomplished easing the annoyance but have inadvertently caused sidewalk traffic by just standing there, and for who knows how long...do you plan on letting winter pass? Like I said, you will inevitably continue on.
Wet socks, to me, are the epitome of bodily discomfort. And anything that makes me think twice about taking that next step is worth overcoming. Thankfully, that night I was on my way to see friends I cared about, playing music that I loved to hear, at a lounge I presumed had heating. And it didn't take long to feel comfortable under those conditions (no pun intended Mike).
So that's the title for you. I think it sort of sets me up nicely for my purpose here; to speak honestly about my life. From the insane, to the ironic, to the awkward, to whatever makes me think twice about my next step...I'll write it for you. But it's all to be taken as a snapshot, each piece just a polaroid on the huge canvas that we all like to call "the bigger picture." I hope you enjoy.
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