Welt

I've been camping and doing 'outdoorsy' things the past two weekends. I've peed in the middle of the darkest nights. I've spelunked. I've hiked mountains. I've scaled rocky terrain. Well, scaled might be an exaggeration. Anyway, I did all this without major injury. Then, I came back to the city. I went to the gym this morning and proceeded to trip over a bright yellow exercise ball, forming a huge welt on my shin. It's lovely. And I'm a klutz.

2% key, 98% confusion

The key to the women's bathroom in the Dupont Circle Starbucks is attached to an awkward 2% milk tin can. That single key works for both the women's and the men's bathrooms, in fact. So tonight, having drunk a liter of water and a huge Sapporo at dinner, I waited in front of the locked women's room not realizing that it was empty. Finally, a man came out of the men's room, handed me the key, I knocked, and I bolted inside. When I came out, another girl went in, only she didn't take the tin can key. She was a sneaky girl. A quick one. No one realized she came out, so a line formed outside the women's bathroom, along with the awkward tin can key. All the while, both bathrooms were empty. There has to be a better system. No wonder Starbucks is losing business - the tin can key method is flawed.

Laundry

How does it build up? I am one person. I don't have a lot of clothes. I re-wear. Yet, predictably, there is always laundry that needs to be done. Granted, I just got back from a camping trip. But even despite that, there is dirty laundry. I feel like I was cursed with the never ending laundry curse. I guess that's better than the never ending itchy rash curse.

Karma

Please make it stop. A few days ago, a friend of mine introduced me to the song Karma Police by Radiohead. Ever since, I've had, not Karma Police, but Karma Cameleon stuck in my head. It's not normal. I'm talking from the morning shower to the walk home after work. No matter where I go, it follows me. I'm in Minneapolis right now, in fact. We just passed a restaurant called Karma. Someone said, "Do you think it's good karma or bad karma?" The group chuckled at the joke. And all I could think was, "No! That's the trigger!" I'm in '80s hell.

Walk like that

My spin instructor approached me this morning in the middle of class. I was mid-sprint. She literally got off of her instructor bike in the front of the room to come over to me, quietly sprinting my little heart out in the back corner. She said, "Do you realize that your legs bow out when you sprint? I know you're a good rider, so it's odd. I was thinking, I don't think she walks like that, you know? I mean I've seen you walk. Right? You don't walk like that, do you?"

Tragic fall paranoia

Have you ever been so extremely and almost irrationally excited to see someone that all you can think about is the inevitable tripping over your shoelace? Or falling down the stairs, arms flailing, knocking some teeth out, and other would-be unfortunate events? It takes all the concentration you can muster for these tragedies not to happen. That was me last night. Thank god the crises were just in my head. Super cool on the outside, super neurotic on the inside.

For real this time

This blog has gone through so much. One year it's loved, the next it's not. Happy to say that I'm recommitted yet again. I know what you're thinking, she's said this before, it's a vicious cycle, an emotional rollercoaster, etc. But I promise, I love ya baby! This time it's for real.

The Bucks

Even the soothing sounds of Norah Jones couldn't break through the negativity. The line at the Bucks was out the door this morning. Caffeine addiction is a serious business, apparently. And our dealers wear seasonally colored aprons. Everything’s great if we can get it fast. But insert a bottleneck in supply chain? Madness. It was an interesting juxtaposition, I thought, as I stood about nine people away from my reduced-fat banana chip coffee cake. On one hand, I felt very wholesome and wintery. Norah Jones was singing I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas. The smell of coffee and cocoa filled the air. There were sweet things all around me. But on the other hand, I noticed that no one was smiling. People were cutting in line and, very unabashedly and loudly, being told to take their place. There was tension. Depressing news was streaming silently in the background. And it was cold. Despite all this, there we stood. "I’m dreaming of a white... foamy latte."

Cracked

After a three month break, I'm back. Still in DC. Still observing life's little eccentricities. Yet I feel freer. I feel that sense of reality. And I am beyond happy. Unfortunately, I am no longer taking the bus. And the cold dark quittin' time of late doesn't allow me to bike either. Not that I mind, of course. This allows me to walk with someone wonderful everyday. And, as a result, I now observe life from sidewalks and street corners. Not a bad view, I must admit. Well, except for that butt crack I saw this morning. As we stood at the corner waiting for the light, he (i.e., "Butt Crack") bent over to pick up a small Starbucks bag. No doubt it was filled with some highly-sugared yet delicious treat. But wow. The sacrifices we make.

Break

Taking a break, yet logging all funny bus/bike happenings. Be back soon.