Bad Wires, Sad Hobos, and Temptation in the Form of Chocolate

Every morning, I cross a street near my office. Apparently, some electrical work needs to be done on this street. Next to a manhole cover, several yellow arrows have been painted and, in big block letters, are the words “BAD WIRE.” They have been there for at least three months. As I walk across them every day, I wonder why this hasn’t been fixed yet, and I wonder why I walk over it every day. I remember the series of manhole explosions from a couple of years back. They were mostly in Georgetown, but one happened right outside my office and a Pepco worker was seriously injured. Yet every day I pass over this spot and think “Hmmh. I probably shouldn’t be walking here.” I am so going to get blown up.

My regular readers (all six of you) know how much I loathe Sienna Miller (for example, see yesterday’s post). Maybe it’s just jealousy. She’s all over the place, getting good movie roles, and dating famous men. But really, my issue is that she is constantly held up by fashion magazines and those in the “know” as a fashion icon. I refuse to accept this. Most of the time, she looks like a child whose mother forgot to make them a Halloween costume, so they had to throw together a hobo outfit at the last minute (you know, the sad looking kid you give extra candy to, because you feel so bad about their lousy costume). For an example of Sienna’s unique style, click here. With the hat and the leggings, this outfit is eerily reminiscent of the costume worn by the advanced jazz class students at my 1982 dance recital (I was taking ballet at the time and was sporting a lovely tutu embellished with hot pink and lime green satin. It was the 80s, what can I say?) All Sienna is missing are the awful white jazz shoes and some mean jazz hands. If this is what passes for a fashion icon these days, Audrey Hepburn most be rolling over in her grave.

I spent all morning avoiding the leftover Halloween candy in the kitchen, but come lunchtime, I just couldn’t help myself and I ate a Reese’s. Luckily, the other vultures in my office have polished off all the good candy and left behind all the crap I don’t like, taking away any further temptation. Thanks, guys.