There are some things that I would change if it were up to me I've been down here on the island now for nearly three weeks. In some regards I've got a lot accomplished, I even managed to score myself a summer internship. Of course that was over a week ago and I have not heard anything back. Here's the situation: I went in and talked to a man, THE man, in the government, and he told me tha by Friday of that week he'd get back and offer me something. He did, called and sent an e-mail describing what he will offer me and even how much he will pay me (down to the cent). He passed it off to his deputy who, he said, would contact me early next week. That was last week, and Monday being a holiday I gave them until Wednesday. Nothing. I e-mailed back. Nothing. That week ended, this one began. I called. Still, nothing. Thus is island life, I suppose, and nothing gets done right away by ANYONE, from Governour to waiter. I'm not going to give up, although the ball has been in their court now for well over a week and I have tried to contact at least thrice for further instructions. I know it will work out, it has to; they've strung me along too far (and otherwise I'm screwed). Eh, it's all good, just as long as I get my internship hours done by August. Or, at the very least I guess, December.

So since I haven't been called in yet, I've turned to watching WGN Superstation in the mornings here. I know, TV on an island paradise, sacrilege. But I have been (except today) watching my two of my favorite shows, Rockford Files and Magnum, pi. First off Rockford is just the coolest cat to ever grace the television in my opinion, cooler even than McGarrett, which is saying something coming from a 5-0 fanatic such as me. But as I watch Magnum I just can't help but imagine what if that's how island life was. Screw the easy-going Jimmy Buffett songs, I want the the cars, the guns, the girls, the toys and the freedom to come and go while shacking up on some rich man's island plantation with a frustrating but lovable portly British man to keep my actions in check. I want the funky Mike Post score and the sunny beach locales, all within the confines of an America long gone.

I just knew I should have joined the Navy SEALS. I also should have been born twenty years earlier. Peace yo.

ADDENDUM: anyways I wrote that around 10:30 this morning. Around noon I received an e-mail, I'll be starting my internship on 5 July, a week from next Tuesday. Now all I need is a red Ferrari and a bushy mustache.  ¶ 6/22/2005 11:04:00 AM