Friday, October 29, 2010


I am feeling a bit more than under the weather today. It typically takes a l ot to sideline me; I am certainly one of those people whose approach to illness is to simply pretend like I am not sick and go from there. Anyone have any good remedies for a particularly nasty cough and cold? My head feels like an anvil is resting on top of it at all times. Training started an hour later today so I was able to sleep infinity hours last night, but so far it hasn't helped. Fingers crossed I'll be able to go to a friend's Halloween birthday party tonight. Do gin buckets help sinus problems? In other news, I found The Ballerina Project on tumblr yesterday and was completely fascinated by the photographs. I love the lines against the architecture of the city; I think urban planning and design is unbelievable (architecture nerd alert) and provides a such a distinct backdrop for each image. I was an unsuccessful ballet student as a little girl (I know you're all shocked), and found that I much preferred gymnastics. Anyway, I have always been impressed by ballerinas; I think they are beautiful. Here are some of my favorites:

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Open letters.

One of my new favorite websites for hysterical laughter at any time is McSweeney's.

They have an "Open Letters" section of their website, which allows people to write letters to people or entities that would never actually respond. Seeing as I make mental open letters two to three times a day, I am taking this opportunity to write a formal complaint.

An Open Letter to Everyone Driving on I-66 Between the Hours of 5 and 7pm, More Specifically, the Guy Driving the Subaru "Baja" Directly in Front of Me,

I know its rush hour. I know you really, really want to get home. Me too. I left my office building about an hour ago. It took me 30 minutes, a diet coke, and 3 oreos just to get onto this God forsaken road from said office building. As much as I am usually a very positive person, this road brings out the worst in everyone. Why anyone in traffic engineering thought that a major commuter thoroughfare could spontaneously go from 2 lanes to 4 with no impact on the movement of traffic is completely beyond me. 4 - 2 = 2. 2 < 4. Simple math.

On the subject of lane loss, I blame construction. While I really appreciate the building of the metro out to Northern Virginia, which will someday, in the extremely distant future, allow me to avoid all of this mess, you have ALL NIGHT to construct. Yet, you choose to construct when everyone under the sun wants one thing: to reach their apartment building in Arlington, remove their tights in favor of an oversized nightgown, make hot cocoa and watch NCIS re-runs (Okay, so maybe that's just what I want). I propose to remove the speed limit signs on I-66 between the hours of 4 and 7pm. Let's be honest, no one will ever actually reach 55 miles per hour at this time, so this is really just cruel. If you do, somehow reach a pace above "glacial," don't hold your breath, because within minutes you'll have to slow down to pay someone 75 cents at a toll (which I paid in the form of pennies yesterday).

That being said, we are really all in this together (not to get all High School Musical on you). You, man in front of me, can make this easier on everyone. You know where you're going; you drive this road every day to and from work. You know your EZPass only works in the left lane at the approaching toll plaza. You know you have to exit onto 495 if you're still in the right lane after the toll plaza (which you don't want to do because your car will instantly implode at the sight of the backed up on-ramp).  You know the right lane actually closes in 1 mile. With that, I ask you sir, WHY ARE YOU IN THE RIGHT LANE? I would yell this to you, but I don't think you would hear it over your Metallica. Clearly, your Subaru isn't your only problem.

Thankful for my car's 6-disc CD player,

This guy.

Upon entering the elevator yesterday after work, I stumbled upon someone closely resembling this in the elevator:

His name is Chauncey, and he lives on the fifth floor. Can I have it?